Sasha's legacy 1. Written by: Sheri Murphy

Chapter nine ©

Written by: Sheri Murphy
All rights reserved

                   At present time

This is the first morning Drake hadn't either been startled awake. Or woken up during the night.

Man! It felt good for him to wake up to heat. Also knowing that he would have food to eat and a shower. He hated to leave this place really. However, the more time he wasted the more time he'd be out here in these streets. He had to get moving. He'd asked the man at the front desk if he knew where he could find a map. He told Drake he would see that he got him one.

"I spoke to Smoky last night after you fell asleep." He stood up and straightened his shirt. That seemed to look more wrinkled than Drake remembered it too. "He seemed to have taken a liking to you. He told me to remind you to stop by the apartment. If you can't get in, knock on the backdoor or the first sliding glass door where you were last night." He sat back down into his seat. Reached up and brushed the crumbs off the counter in front of him: "He has some things he needs to do. He didn't tell me what they were. That's all he said." Finally lifting his eyes to look into Drake's eyes.

Drake stood there and listened to the man explain his instructions. He was about middle aged. He had a red and blue baseball hat on. The logo had long been missing. However, if Drake had to of guessed he would have said it probably was an old Indians hat. He had gray hair with specs of black throughout. At least the parts that are sticking out from beneath the hat. His green naturally watery eyes. The kind that make you want to ask what's wrong all the time. However, you know it would be a waste of breathe. Kind of like looking into an old hound dogs eyes. He wore a little scruffiness on his chin and upper lip. He wore jeans and a red shirt with a black jacket.

After receiving all the information the man had for him that Drake needed, he thanked the gentleman and walked to the showers.

Meanwhile back in Panelane the police station had made no progress. They'd talked to Drake's work friends and family. Nothing seemed to make any sense. He was a hard working man. He worked for his own writing company, but wrote mostly at home. He never bothered anyone. They haven't found a match on the body yet either.

His dad had mentioned something about he still was best friends with his high school buddies. The bad part about that is none of them can be found for questioning. His wife was M.I.A. too. There's an APB out for all of them. So far the trail has ran cold. There doing everything they can to find him. Police are urging anyone with information to call the River county police department.

Drake had placed a razor, toothpaste, and a tiny bar of soap. Also a bottle of shampoo and conditioner in his bag and was almost ready to leave until he realized he hadn't ate. He should probably do that, he was going to need his strength if he planned on making it there in one piece. Which he did plan on making it there in one piece.

He walked into the room where the kitchen was. It was just your normal room. There were brown card tables with brown plastic chairs. Drake gave a good guess that they too belonged to the school at one time. Two of the card tables were up against the back wall. One had the normal condiments.

Ketchup, mustard, mayo packets. Plastic knives, spoons, and forks. On the next table there was coffee, sugar, creamer, artificial sweeteners, and styrofoam cups. Next to the table closest to the door was a black plastic garbage can. That was chained by the handle to a metal loop in the wall.

There was a brick fireplace in the corner of the opposite wall. Next to that was another what looked like a fireplace but was not. The back wall housed a built in what looked like industrial fan. With what looked like a normal fire pit in front of it. However, everything inside was painted blue. He'd never seen anything like that ever in his life.