Mack and Monroe walk right past me in the cop car, never even looking in my direction. I turn around in the seat and see Monroe pop the trunk of her car, pull a tarp out and open it up before placing it back in her trunk. Mack then puts the bloody box inside and then pulls off his gloves and tosses them in her trunk too. When they shut the lid, they start to talk, Monroe pointing toward Patrick’s car.

Toward me.

Patrick comes out of the house and locks it behind him. He says something on his shoulder microphone as he heads toward Mack and Monroe. I really wish the window was down in this car but I’m sure people have escaped that way.

Once Patrick reaches Mack and Monroe, they form a tight circle. It looks like they’re talking quietly among themselves. Monroe points toward me again but Mack and Patrick shake their heads. I can see that Monroe is mad at whatever they said but she throws up her arms in defeat as Patrick turns to walk over to me.

I spin back around in my seat. I don’t want them to think that I’m watching them, even though I am. Suddenly I hear the door open and feel a rush of air.

“Effi?” Patrick opens the door wide and steps off to the side.

“Uh, yeah?” I don’t move an inch because I’m afraid that I’m about to get handcuffed.

“You’re free to go.”

I get out of the car before he can change his mind. “Um, okay…”

“I should take you in just based on trespassing, but you stumbled onto one hell of a crime scene. I think you’ve seen enough for today, otherwise, yes, you will need counseling. Now who was it you were looking for?” Patrick closes the back door behind me and then opens the front passenger door. He leans in and grabs my purse. He hands me my purse as he turns to sit in the passenger seat. He spins the computer around so that he can see the screen and types in something that I can’t see.

“B-Blake Randolf.”

Patrick types a bit more, clicks on something and then says, “Hmm, yeah, this is his only known address. I’m not sure where he is, but he’s a person of interest for us as well. If this is his handywork, you need to call us when you find him. Do not approach him on your own. We’re not sure what he’s capable of, especially based on what we saw in the house.” Patrick turns and gets out of the car, stands next to me, and thrusts his hand out to shake my hand.

“Oh, yeah,” I stumble as I reach out to shake his hand. “Um, thanks for not arresting me. I know it didn’t look good.”

“No, Effi, it certainly did not. If it were up to Monroe, you’d be behind bars. She’s a bit stricter than I am. But I’ve got more years under my belt, and I can tell that you didn’t do this.”

I glance over at Mack and Monroe as I walk over to my car. Monroe is giving me the evil eye like she knows that I’m up to no good or something. I guess she’s not wrong. Technically I should be on her list of people to take in and put behind bars, but today isn’t the day.

The door on my car doesn’t open immediately and I must look like a bumbling fool at the sheer desperation of pulling on a car door that is stuck. Once it lets go, I lose my balance a little. I don’t have to look to know that Monroe is staring me down.

When I toss my purse into the car, it lands on the edge of the passenger seat and then falls onto the floor. My phone flies out of it and skitters across the floor mat. Any other day and I would’ve bent over to get it, but today I just want to get out of here. Three cops and a crime scene are way too close for comfort.

I back out of the driveway, pass Monroe and Mack on my right. I don’t even have my GPS working to tell me how to get anywhere else. The radio is playing music so quietly that I can’t make out the song. The knob feels excessively textured when I turn it up. I don’t remember it ever feeling like that. When I look at my fingertips, I have a small cut on the end that looks like a paper cut. What would I have touched that I would’ve gotten a paper cut? Cardboard boxes? Hopefully I didn’t touch anything else. I really don’t need my blood intermingled at that crime scene.

Up ahead I see a little bar called the Center Shot. I pull into the empty parking lot and park under a tree near the back. I know it looks creepy, but I also don’t want to be in full sight. I just have a bad feeling about Monroe.

The GPS finally pops up and I see that it’s 6:46pm. Was I really in that house and with the police for that long? I haven’t even found a hotel yet. The day is really starting to wear on me, so I pull out my phone and Google hotels in Niantic. There’s quite a few, surprisingly, but since I don’t actually have the company card and I don’t know how long it’s going to be before Viv reimburses me, I pick one of the cheaper ones.

I press the phone number on link and a cute little chipper voice answers the phone, “Thank you for calling Sleep Inn where we get your coffee ready while you sleep in. This is Mandy. How can I help you?”

“Hi Mandy, I would like a room please?” The three cop cars go flying past the parking lot with their lights on. I breathe a sigh of relief once they’re out of sight.

“Would that be just for you?”

“Yep, just me.” Now I wish I had brought Squeaker. Other than the hiccup with the decapitated head, I could’ve used the company. And Squeaker is very good at calming me down.

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“Alright! Would you like a queen or a king? I personally like the king, but I like to spread out. Ha ha!”

“Ya know, Mandy, I was just going to do a queen but I like you’re way of thinking. Let’s do a king size room. Do you have room service there?”

“Got it! Aw, bummer, no we don’t. We have a cute little continental breakfast in the morning but if I were you, I would go to Starbucks down the road. But sssh! Don’t tell my boss.” Mandy giggles and taps on her keyboard hard enough that I can hear it through the phone.

“I won’t tell as long as you point me in the direction of a good dinner.”

“Deal! When will you be getting here?”

I type the address into my GPS. “My GPS says nine minutes.”

“Great! I’ll see you when you get here. I can get your card information then and I’ll have a list of my favorite places to eat. See you soon!”

“Thanks! Bye.” I hang up the phone and get back on the road. Different places look familiar, and I know I passed by them earlier, but I still know that I would get lost in a second. I pass by the Starbucks that Mandy must’ve been talking about and make a mental note to just go there in the morning. I’m not a fan of continental breakfasts anyway. Plus, they always seem busy with other hotel guests. I don’t like people that much. I’d rather go through a drive-thru.

Up ahead, the Sleep Inn comes into view on the right. It actually doesn’t look that bad for a cheap hotel. I think some hotels are very overpriced, especially for what a person gets. It’s a bed, tv, and a bathroom. Maybe a mini fridge but not very often. And the prices are crazy. Maybe some of those come with room service. That would’ve been nice. If I had the company card, or knew where Kendra booked us, then I might’ve been a little more daring.

I park under a parking lot light, shift into park, and pop the trunk. I look around for any creepy people and the lot is empty aside from a few vacant cars. Maybe that’s why different hotels charge more, they have to charge enough to cover the people who aren’t there.

My bag feels heavier than it used too but I think that’s just the weight of the day holding me down. I decide to set my bag down and use the rolley wheels to pull it behind me. Why work harder when I can work smarter? I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone.

A bell rings when I open the front door and I see a short teenage girl at the front desk.

“Welcome to Sleep Inn!” Mandy grins from ear to ear and she looks like she’s a genuinely happy person.

“Hi, Mandy, right?” I get past the door, but the door closes faster than I expect, and it lodges my bag in its grip, jerking me backward. “Oof!” I look back at my bag and see the handle made it through, but not the bag. That’s the downside to rolley bags. They’re never where you expect them to be. “I’ll be there in a sec.” It looks like Mandy is trying to stifle a giggle and I don’t blame her. I must look silly.

I open the door back up and yank on my bag. It stutters across the floor, but it finally makes its way inside to join me. The smell of chlorine is in the air. Maybe there’s a hot tub that I can relax in.

“Hi! Can I get your name?” Mandy smiles as she types on her computer.

I bring my rolley bag to a stop, parking it next to the check-in counter. “Yep, Effi Graber.”

“Mm-hmm, great!” Mandy looks up at me with huge blue eyes that are a gorgeous contrast to her auburn hair and peach skin. “Can I see your driver’s license?”

“Oh, sure.” I wrestle my wallet out of my purse and pull my license out. “Oh, um, my married name is still on my license. I guess you can put it under that name.” I hand over my license and she takes it.

“It’s okay, a name is just a name. You know who you are at heart and that’s all that matters.” She flashes me a smile and goes back to typing into her computer.

That’s a lot of wisdom for a teenager. “Wow, you’re young to be so wise.”

Mandy looks up at me and grins. She leans her elbows on the counter and places her chin in her hands. “How old do you think I am?”

Oh shit. “I hope I didn’t offend you. I didn’t mean anything by it. You just look young.”

Mandy keeps smiling at me. “Oh, I know, but it’s always fun to see if people can figure out my real age.”

“Oh, okay,” I breathe a sigh of relief. “Ummmm, maybe eighteen? Honestly you look younger than that but based on what you just said, I’m going to say eighteen. And even that doesn’t feel right.”

Mandy leans back and giggles. “Final answer?”

I take another look and lean a little so that I can see her face in the light better. She must’ve played this game before because she even tilts her face upward so that the light illuminates her face. There’s no evidence of wrinkles anywhere. Her skin is flawless. “Yeah, final answer.”

She laughs again, tilts her head back to face her computer. “I’m thirty-two.”

“What?!? No way! There is no way that you’re thirty-two! What do you do to your skin? I’m younger than you and I look older!!”

She shrugs as she types more into the computer and says, “Good genes. My mom and dad had skin like me. Okay, here’s your license back. Now I just need a card to put this one. How long are you thinking of staying?”

I’m still stunned but I try to shake it off. I’m usually pretty good at figuring out people’s ages, but definitely not hers. “So, here’s the deal. I work for a publishing company and I’m trying to find an author. I don’t know how long this is going to take so I don’t know how long to tell you that I need to stay. Can I leave it open ended? Do I have to give you a date when I’ll leave?”

Mandy looks at me and her bright blue eyes get even brighter. “You’re from a publisher?? OMG! I’ve always wanted to be an author! I just don’t know where to start.”

“Ya know, you’d be surprised just how many times I hear that exact statement. And I’ll tell you what I tell everyone else. You just have to start. You might find that you started in the middle and have to go back to write the beginning, but you just have to start. I’ve heard it gets easier once you get a little ways in. For some authors, it’s easier once they get past the fifth chapter. And everyone has a different way to write too. You just have to play around with it until you find what works for you. Anyway, do I have to give a date when I plan on leaving?”

“Oh right!” Mandy giggles and blushes a little. “Nope, you can just keep a tab going and if you’re here a week, then we can give you our weekly rate.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be here that long. East Lyme Niantic isn’t very big. I think I’ve already seen practically all of it.”

Mandy stops typing and looks at me. “Have you gone that way?” She points to her right.

“No, I mean, that’s the direction I was going when I found this place.”

Mandy nods her head. “Oh, yeah, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”