Chapter 19 - Plots and Problems

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Kate paced about the room considering what she thought she might do with her deduction about her fellow passengers. Employment opportunities hadn't been as available as she had hoped for when she came west and in her field it appeared even less likely. She stopped and looked out the hotel window at the black night sky.

The rain slapped the glass like thick spit and a heavenly flashbulb went off silhouetting the buildings beside the hotel. Tomorrow she would check out the feasibility of a daring idea she was tossing around and maybe find a nifty way to put her life back together.

******

Mickey climbed back into the car, dripping with rain and turned on the dome light while he arranged his coffee and the hamburger he'd purchased. He still needed a plan and in spite of the money he left her, he really couldn't be sure that Rose wouldn't break and call the cops; the car could be a hindrance. He sipped the scalding coffee and cursed. He wanted to get to New York and he wanted a foolproof way of doing it.

Public transportation was out of the question. Renting a car also left a trail. Stealing a car just added to the risk but maybe if he used more than one; not the whole way, he would need to use a couple of them at least and then before he got to New York, catch another bus for the balance of the trip and when he arrived there would be no record of how he did it. Brilliant, Mickey. He took a huge bite from the burger and blinked as the headlights of a taxi filled his mirror.

He flipped the anti glare lever on the mirror in time to see a passenger jumping from the car and running toward his door. Hamburger and coffee spilled onto the leather seat as Mickey slammed the car in gear and jammed the pedal to the floor. Water and dirt sprayed out from behind as he tore off the service station lot and he could see the man standing in the road, his arms out at his sides.

It must be High Hat's man he was sure of it. How the hell they found him was baffling but he suspected somehow Rose had a hand in it. Panic grabbed him and he blindly took different routes without any goal, rushing hopelessly through the rain swept streets. Suddenly it hit him that his safest place could be back at the hotel. They would have checked that already and discovered he was gone and he still had his key.

He oriented himself and then left the Mercedes in the back of a school yard, hurrying to the hotel on foot and entering the same way he left.

Ralph was livid. Not only was he soaked from head to foot with dirty, oily water and bits of gravel, he'd lost his quarry with no way to find him again. He knew Mickey would unload the car after realizing that's how he had been tracked.

"I need some place to clean up." Ralph swore.

"I'll take you back to your hotel."

"What hotel, I don't have a hotel."

"Where I picked you up, The Provo."

"I wasn't staying there."

"Well it ain't the Hilton but they'll have a room, and you can get a shower."

"Fine, take me there." Ralph seethed in the back of the cab, creating visions of Mickey strapped to the propeller of a large outboard motor.

******

Mookie Washington enjoyed the taxi ride from the airport, even if it was raining and dark, usually it was him doing the driving and he rarely got to see the scenery. Flying a small private plane at night wasn't his favourite way to travel, but the pilot was doped enough to make the flight a lark for both of them. Landing was the capper. They hit the runway and skidded at forty-five degrees until they stopped against the grass verge. His pilot was ushered to the tower offices and Mookie was sent on his way.

He ogled the silhouettes of the mountains rising from the mist of the rain, with an almost indecent lust. The Provo Hotel was the last place Boots and Arlie had been so he figured he would start there, maybe even use it as a base of operations. He liked the sound of that, 'base of operations', made his job sound really important; made him feel important.

"How long will you be staying, sir?" The clerk wrinkled his brow as Mookie signed the register with the desk pen clamped in his fist.

"Don't know yet. I'm here on business." Mookie puffed his chest a bit and the clerk retreated a step. Mookie was on the high side of six feet and half as wide from shoulders to hips.

"What about luggage, sir, the hotel has a policy of guests checking in without luggage; it gives an impression of disreputable business."

Mookie stared at the man. If this was going to be his base of operations, this weiner was going to be part of the foundation... not a favourable start.

"I don't have any luggage. If I needed luggage I'da brought luggage." The huge brown hand flattened on the counter almost bending it under the pressure.

"Of course, sir. Your key." He delivered it from the tips of two fingers.

Mookie blew out a cheek and lumbered toward the elevator bank.

When Ralph appeared in front of the desk, the clerk felt his heart slip and his throat seize. Ralph picked up the pen and motioned for the register.

"You- uh- wish to rent a room?" The question sounded like a negative plea and Ralph yanked the book around and scratched his name across the column.

"One with a big shower."

The clerk considered mentioning luggage but after their last encounter he decided he couldn't really care less. The class of people checking in wanted to make him check out.

Ralph grabbed the key and marched across to the elevators, standing behind a mountain of a man that resembled an Easter Island statue. The doors opened and they both stepped inside, exiting on the same floor and found that they were adjoining when they got to their rooms.

"Hope you don't snore." Ralph said with not quite enough humour to make his joke work.

"An if I do?" Mookie twisted the key in the lock nearly breaking it.

"Take it easy, fella, just joking." Ralph opened his door and went inside, checking that the adjoining room door was locked and bolted.

He stripped down and salvaged what he could of his shirt and tie and his shoes and socks then called down to the desk and asked for valet service.

"We don't have that service, sir." The silence went on too long and the clerk cleared his throat, offering to see that arrangements would be made. Ralph hung up.

Next door, Mookie was staring at the bed in dismay. He would have to sleep corner to corner, to fit, and the bathroom wasn't much bigger than a closet. So much for his base of operations. He sat in the only chair and couldn't get out.

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