“Kid, it’s my pleasure, I don’t have company anymore. Just a few guests now and then, as the season’s over. Summer is slow. You from Florida?”
Alison expected this question, but for some reason, she felt compelled to keep her past private. “Uh, no, I grew up in Arizona.” She needed an excuse to explain her tanned skin, but then she remembered the Jeep had Florida license plates. “I’ve been in Florida a couple months now. For work.”
Betty sat in the chair opposite her. “That so?”
She nodded. “Yes, I freelance.”
“What kind of freelancing do you do? If you don’t mind my asking.”
She summoned a fake smile. “I write for an animal magazine.”
“And you don’t need the Internet for your work?” Betty shook her head side to side.
“I do, but I’m giving myself the night off.” She hadn’t told Betty she didn’t have a computer, only that she didn’t need Wi-Fi. She took a sip of her tea. “This is so sweet of you,” she said, taking another sip of tea.
“As I said, I don’t get a lot of company these days, and you’re a decent girl. I can tell. No tattoos, weird piercings in places that ain’t normal.”
“No tattoos or piercings for me. I’m afraid of needles. I do my best to stay on the upside of the grass.” She had never been arrested, no traffic violations. Her life on the streets hadn’t always been horrible; she’d never been in trouble with the police, other than the times she’d taken off when she’d been forced to live in one foster home after another.
“You get to that age where you know yourself, your likes, and dislikes. No shame in admitting that.” Betty pushed the plate of cookies across the table. “My feelings will be hurt if you don’t eat a couple of these. My waistline, too.”
She took two cookies, sinking her teeth into the sweetness. “These are scrumptious.” She finished one cookie, then another. “Just one more,” Alison said. The cookies were mouthwatering. “Best cookies I’ve ever had. I didn’t eat a lot of sweets as a kid.” A wave of dizziness swept over her, and she gripped the edge of the table to steady herself.
“Are you all right?” Betty asked.
Alison closed her eyes, waiting for the dizziness to subside. “I think so. I, uh, need to lie down. I’ll find my way out.” She stood up, the kitchen spinning around her. “Sorry.”
“Let me help you back to your room, kiddo. You don’t look so good.” Betty walked to her side and took her hand. “I’ll get you settled in for the night.”
Alison let Betty lead her out of the kitchen, through the living area, then to the reception desk. She leaned on Betty. Her body limp, she could barely manage to put one foot in front of the other. “Sorry,” she muttered again. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” Her words were muffled.
“Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you.”
Inside her room, Alison went limp when Betty helped her to bed. “Let’s get you under the covers. Your skin is hot as a coal. You got a fever, I’m sure.”
“Uh,” was all she could manage.
“I’ll get some aspirin. You relax; I’ll be right back.” Betty scurried out of the room. For the first time in a very, very long time, she was doing what she hadn’t done. A young woman, alone and ill, who just so happened to be a guest at her motel, needed her. This is what she’d been wanting, waiting for. She’d forgive her lie for now, telling her she only had one cat. Her vision was pretty good—she was sure there were three cats on her pillow. Briefly, she thought of the deposit money. Betty planned to keep it and would remind the girl of her lie later.
She hurried to the office, making sure to lock the door. As she said to the girl, you never knew what kind of crazies were out there in the world. Not exactly her words, but close enough. She went to the kitchen, found a bottle of aspirin and a thermometer. She searched the bathroom medicine cabinet for a vapor cream in case the girl had a cold. Betty remembered when she was a little girl, her mother would rub the smelly stuff on her chest and lay a warm towel on her. It never failed to help. Back in the kitchen, she took a paper bag, stuffed the items inside, then returned to room number two.
Chapter Two
Alison opened her eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. Rolling onto her side, she saw the clock on the bedside table. It was almost noon.
“What the heck?” she said out loud. It took her a few moments to remember where she was. In a motel, from the looks of it, though she couldn’t recall the name. As she sat up in bed, the room whirled around like a roller coaster. She closed her eyes when a sudden wave of nausea sent her bolting out of the bed to the bathroom, where she emptied the contents of her stomach.
Alison raked a shaky hand through her hair, her memory of the previous evening sketchy. She stood up, the bathroom mirror giving the impression of one of those fun house mirrors she’d seen years ago when she’d gone to a circus. Couldn’t remember what city, but she remembered that it’d made her sick as she struggled to find an exit. That’s what she felt like now. Turning on the shower, she stepped inside, letting the cool water slide down her back. She tilted her head; the icy blast of water felt good on her face. When she felt steady enough, she opened her eyes, the room no longer out of focus. With extra care, she toweled off. Alison felt like she had the hangover from hell. Every heartbeat sent a searing pain behind her eyes. She had a sour taste in her mouth and brushed her teeth twice. She needed caffeine, but the thought of drinking coffee made her gag.
Dragging herself back to the bed, she saw a bottle of aspirin, a thermometer, and a container of vapor rub. Clueless as to how they got there, Alison forced herself to recall the day before. The pillow where she’d let the cats sleep was gone, along with the cats and the supplies.
Trying her best to recall the previous evening, she remembered stopping in Fort Charlotte, where she’d found this motel, though she still couldn’t bring up the name. She’d unpacked; the only reason she knew this was that her toiletries were on the bathroom counter, yet she didn’t remember putting them there. Had she gone out? Yes, she’d bought stuff for the cats. With no way of knowing exactly what had happened to her, she closed her eyes, tried to relax. She dozed off for a bit, then opened her eyes, only this time without the dizziness.
Glancing at the clock again, she saw it was after one. Edging to the end of the bed, she saw her shoes on the floor. Her luggage was open, her clothing hung over the sides. Alison always packed the few clothes she owned very neatly. Why were they scattered about now? She rifled through the messy pile, finding underclothes, her favorite pair of jeans, and a Tampa Bay Buccaneers T-shirt she’d found in a consignment shop when she’d first moved to Tampa. After she dressed, she repacked her clothes. In the bathroom, she gathered her toiletries, plus the extras provided by the motel. Picking up the shorts and T-shirt she’d worn, she scanned the room to see if she was forgetting anything, She recalled eating a hamburger last night. A hazy memory surfaced of driving to that island, Palm something-or-other; then she spied the pamphlets on the bedside table.