09-05-2018, 11:59 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-06-2018, 03:04 PM by Jay Carpenter.)
He wanted to collapse in bed, but hunger was the more powerful motivator. A shower could come later. For now, he opted to swap his shirt for a clean one. Of course, it required rummaging through the contents of his duffle bag, and given the neat arrangement of the contents, Jay opted to lay things out than disrupt the work of art that was his packing. All of his undershirts were the same white style. Functional, fit, and easy to fold and wash. That was about the best he could ask for in the circumstances. For now, he left his jacket draped across a chair after pulling the far-better-smelling shirt over his head.
A few splashes of water on his face, a scrub of fingers across his scalp, and he called himself good enough to stand in line and fight over some ribs. He’d kill for some barbecue. A porterhouse. Some sausage. Mashed potatoes. Besides, he could have a chance to give the place a walk-around while he was sure the others were holed up in their respective rooms freshening up.
Downstairs, the sign to the restaurant begged his feet to turn that way. But he’d not be able to eat in peace until he knew exactly how Trade Winds was laid out and who exactly staffed what points of entry. He grit his teeth, willed his stomach to silence, and took off.
The lobby stretched into a wing filled with hotel-amenities. A gym that looked rather enticing was laid out across from a meeting room. A small coffee kiosk was flanked by massive bars. From one spilled loud club-like thumping music. From the other, like a dueling partner, spilled the twang of country songs.
Other amenities waited. A long stretch of a hallway directed toward the pool and spa. With a slim smirk, he had to check that out. For security purposes of course. It was mostly empty but for a pair of old ladies in pink swimsuits. Under the cover of a temperature-controlled canopy, they lounged comfortably. The rest of the area was wide-open. Some bushes lined privacy walls. A locked gate served as an emergency exit into the parking lot. Otherwise, there was no where to hide. Cameras were adequately mounted. Probably shouldn’t skinny dip then. Jay nodded and returned the way he came.
He noted the direction toward alternative parking lots. A small parking garage was attached for coverage in winter weather. Probably an upcharge to protect the car from two-feet of snow. If his life was a movie, that would be the ideal place for some bad shit to go down. Blood washed off concrete pretty well, anyway. He noted the directions and doors and carried on.
Cigarette smoke wafted from the casino entrance. The buzz and flicker of lights flashed like beacons willing him into open arms. He pulled the brim of the Stetson lower and kept going. What sort of game did dad find the most appealing? Probably the slots. With all their promises for easy cash and high payouts. Dropping in pennies, dimes, quarters was little to no risk, until you pissed away hundreds of bucks over eight wasted hours with nothing to show for it. He walked on.
A few patrons looked up as he passed. Jay studied them in return. Older guys, grizzled and weary. One wearing a white hat nodded like he sensed a kindred soul. Jay politely returned the gesture, eyes sliding toward that of the nearest camera afterward, and kept walking.
Slots, wheels, table-games, bingo were hopping. Craps and roulette tables were dark. Random luck, no strategy. Now cards, on the other hand. That is a game worth burning some money to play. His gaze lingered on those plush green tables a minute longer than probably should have. A few players were sprinkled in. Dealers were dressed sharply. His pace slowed, the hook sinking a little deeper. Maybe one game real fast. Just to see. Black jack was all about strategy and statistics, risk, reward.
“Jay?” A voice called his name from a passed table. He spun her direction, heart trapped in his throat.
Then he saw her. Long brunette hair curled down her back. She wore a skirt and tank-top. The sparkle of a necklace laid across her chest. It was her eyes that captured him, though. Deep brown chocolate puddles rimmed with black.
He was speechless but for the name escaped from crushed lungs. “Anna Marie.” He swallowed, heart pounding as she got up from her seat to rush over. She threw arms around his neck, grinning with warm-natured reunion. He found himself tensely returning the embrace.
When she leaned away, she flicked the brim of his hat teasingly. “Look at you, strolling through Trade Winds in your hat. Never thought this day would come. How are you? You visiting your folks? I’m sorry to hear about Cayli. How is she?”
He swallowed, thankful for the shade of the hat to hide the blood draining from his face. She spoke like nothing at all happened last time they saw each other. Why was she here? She never used to gamble.
“Uh, yeah. Something like that. She’s fine, actually. Here.” Even as he shrugged upward, he immediately regretted it. Why’d he tell her that? Anna Marie could just look at him and pry the truth out.
She gasped, of course. Practically squealed with delight. “Well I’d love to see them!” Jay looked over her shoulder to find another girl watching. A friend, he guessed. One he didn’t recognize. Maybe a bachelorette party?
Anna Marie noticed. She always noticed. She spun and waved her over. This one was about their age, with fuzzy black hair and a wide toothy smile. Her tall heels brought her up to Jay’s shoulder.
“Jasmeen, this is Jay.” Anna Marie introduced. To his horror, Jasmeen’s brows lifted with far more awareness than made Jay comfortable. He scratched the back of his neck. Clearly they’d talked about him.
Well. If he was in front of the firing squad, might as well make his final stand memorable. “I see someone can’t stop talking ‘bout me.” He poked Anna Marie on the shoulder.
Jasmeen’s arms folded. “I see you weren’t kidding about him. Arrogant son of a bitch, isn’t he?” the snarl on her lip was playful, but probably hinted at more truth than Anna Marie preferred divulged just then.
He smiled apologetically. Jasmeen lifted a brow and returned to her seat (and cocktail). Jay didn’t stop her departure. Yep. Seemed exactly like the kind of friend that’d flock to Anna Marie. “You girls have fun. I’ll see you later,” he started to turn away when Anna Marie cornered him.
“Oh sush about all that, Jay. She’s protective. We work together at the pharmacy. Admittedly, I may have run my mouth for a while about you after we broke up.”
Jay didn’t blame her. Everything she told Jasmeen was likely to be deserved. Didn’t mean he was interested in sticking around to hear all about it.
“Why don’t we start over. Let me buy you a drink.” When she tugged on his hand, he didn’t resist. Not much, anyway. At least a bar would have a food menu. Hopefully.
A country-meets-Native American theme swallowed them up. Barstools were stretched leather. Deep colors painted the walls. Music played in the background. First thing he did after studying the bar’s layout was order a plate of food and a double-shot of tequila. Anna Marie slid into the stool alongside, legs crossed, arm crooked over the back of her seat. The point of her shoe accidentally grazed his ankle, sparking chills up to the thigh.
He attempted to breathe a deep, steadying gulp of air. It didn’t work. Luckily, the tequila was quickly laid before him. The first one went down smooth as gasoline. He kept the second on hand for now.
“Your mom told me you were in Africa.” She began casually. Like chatting with his mom took place on a regular basis. He tensed despite the shot. “How was it?”
And then he shifted uncomfortably in the seat.
She waved her hand. “Never mind. That’s okay. We can talk about something else.” She smiled and slurped at the martini glass presented to her.
“You said Cayli was fine? I thought she had cancer, but I never heard what kind.” Her voice was a polite mix of somber and interested.
Jay frowned a moment, studying the glasses. Yeah. That topic was better. “Uhm, yeah. I guess they made a mistake. There never was any cancer.”
Anna Marie gasped, eyes wide. “What?!”
Jay didn’t elaborate. This was a bad idea. Even a hot steak and potato-skins wasn’t worth the interrogation. Mom or dad might find them. Light knew he wanted to avoid that reunion as much as possible. Not to mention Natalie or Jensen might wander down any minute. Though it was unlikely the pastor would walk into a bar. But Natalie seemed like the kind to seek a good drink. In fact, the last time she had, it got her dragged off into the dark. Should have killed that guy when I had the chance. A moment of anger narrowed his eyes. Anna Marie tilted her head, fishing for his line of sight.
She laid a hand on his wrist. Perfectly manicured nails glinted with color. “I’m sorry, Jay.”
He just looked at her hand a minute. There were days he pondered what she would look like wearing a ring. What the expression on her face would reveal when she finally beheld the one he picked.
He withdrew a minute later in exchange for the drink, but stopped himself before wetting his lips.
“Wait. Do you know Dr. Diaz?” She seemed surprised, but nodded slowly.
“What do you know about him?”
She thought a moment. “He’s an asshole, but most doctors are, especially to the pharmacists. He is here on some temporary stay, filling in for someone that took a leave of absence. Came from out east. Baltimore I think. Very selective about the patients he takes.”
Surprisingly, Jay was more calm than he expected. Her information fit with what he knew. Bode well that he wasn’t insanely paranoid. “Does he have any friends in town? People he works with? Reports to? Anything like that.”
She shook her head. “Not that I know of. He’s in the med-onc lab a lot.”
He looked at her like he was suppose to know what that meant. She smiled for the poor sweet innocent Jay. “Medical oncology laboratory. I think he was a physician scientist trained at NIH or maybe the CDC. I’m not sure which. It’s common for people like him.”
Now they were getting somewhere. Maybe the torture of the earlier conversation would be worth it after all. Or maybe the tequila was loosening the vice around his chest. “What was he working on?”
“I thought he was working on cancer patients.”
“And?”
“And prolonging their lives of course.”
Memories flickered as he pieced the puzzle together. Back in the porsche, he talked about Cayli’s youth. He knew about channelers. Samples. Cancer. Life. It made no sense.
He licked his lips, kept his tone as careful as possible. No big deal at all. They weren’t talking about huge national conspiracies. This was just normal reunion chatting at a bar with an ex. “Has he worked with anyone with the Sickness?”
Anna Marie laughed. “Of course not. We’ve not had anyone like that here!” But her laugh was loud. Like when she used to laugh at jokes of other cheerleaders then turn to him and roll her eyes.
He fixed her with a knowing stare, heart pounding. She was lying. He leaned near. “Tell me what you know, Annie.” He stared, eyes bright with eager need beneath the brim of his hat. Jaw tight. He was close.
“You can trust me.”
A few splashes of water on his face, a scrub of fingers across his scalp, and he called himself good enough to stand in line and fight over some ribs. He’d kill for some barbecue. A porterhouse. Some sausage. Mashed potatoes. Besides, he could have a chance to give the place a walk-around while he was sure the others were holed up in their respective rooms freshening up.
Downstairs, the sign to the restaurant begged his feet to turn that way. But he’d not be able to eat in peace until he knew exactly how Trade Winds was laid out and who exactly staffed what points of entry. He grit his teeth, willed his stomach to silence, and took off.
The lobby stretched into a wing filled with hotel-amenities. A gym that looked rather enticing was laid out across from a meeting room. A small coffee kiosk was flanked by massive bars. From one spilled loud club-like thumping music. From the other, like a dueling partner, spilled the twang of country songs.
Other amenities waited. A long stretch of a hallway directed toward the pool and spa. With a slim smirk, he had to check that out. For security purposes of course. It was mostly empty but for a pair of old ladies in pink swimsuits. Under the cover of a temperature-controlled canopy, they lounged comfortably. The rest of the area was wide-open. Some bushes lined privacy walls. A locked gate served as an emergency exit into the parking lot. Otherwise, there was no where to hide. Cameras were adequately mounted. Probably shouldn’t skinny dip then. Jay nodded and returned the way he came.
He noted the direction toward alternative parking lots. A small parking garage was attached for coverage in winter weather. Probably an upcharge to protect the car from two-feet of snow. If his life was a movie, that would be the ideal place for some bad shit to go down. Blood washed off concrete pretty well, anyway. He noted the directions and doors and carried on.
Cigarette smoke wafted from the casino entrance. The buzz and flicker of lights flashed like beacons willing him into open arms. He pulled the brim of the Stetson lower and kept going. What sort of game did dad find the most appealing? Probably the slots. With all their promises for easy cash and high payouts. Dropping in pennies, dimes, quarters was little to no risk, until you pissed away hundreds of bucks over eight wasted hours with nothing to show for it. He walked on.
A few patrons looked up as he passed. Jay studied them in return. Older guys, grizzled and weary. One wearing a white hat nodded like he sensed a kindred soul. Jay politely returned the gesture, eyes sliding toward that of the nearest camera afterward, and kept walking.
Slots, wheels, table-games, bingo were hopping. Craps and roulette tables were dark. Random luck, no strategy. Now cards, on the other hand. That is a game worth burning some money to play. His gaze lingered on those plush green tables a minute longer than probably should have. A few players were sprinkled in. Dealers were dressed sharply. His pace slowed, the hook sinking a little deeper. Maybe one game real fast. Just to see. Black jack was all about strategy and statistics, risk, reward.
“Jay?” A voice called his name from a passed table. He spun her direction, heart trapped in his throat.
Then he saw her. Long brunette hair curled down her back. She wore a skirt and tank-top. The sparkle of a necklace laid across her chest. It was her eyes that captured him, though. Deep brown chocolate puddles rimmed with black.
He was speechless but for the name escaped from crushed lungs. “Anna Marie.” He swallowed, heart pounding as she got up from her seat to rush over. She threw arms around his neck, grinning with warm-natured reunion. He found himself tensely returning the embrace.
When she leaned away, she flicked the brim of his hat teasingly. “Look at you, strolling through Trade Winds in your hat. Never thought this day would come. How are you? You visiting your folks? I’m sorry to hear about Cayli. How is she?”
He swallowed, thankful for the shade of the hat to hide the blood draining from his face. She spoke like nothing at all happened last time they saw each other. Why was she here? She never used to gamble.
“Uh, yeah. Something like that. She’s fine, actually. Here.” Even as he shrugged upward, he immediately regretted it. Why’d he tell her that? Anna Marie could just look at him and pry the truth out.
She gasped, of course. Practically squealed with delight. “Well I’d love to see them!” Jay looked over her shoulder to find another girl watching. A friend, he guessed. One he didn’t recognize. Maybe a bachelorette party?
Anna Marie noticed. She always noticed. She spun and waved her over. This one was about their age, with fuzzy black hair and a wide toothy smile. Her tall heels brought her up to Jay’s shoulder.
“Jasmeen, this is Jay.” Anna Marie introduced. To his horror, Jasmeen’s brows lifted with far more awareness than made Jay comfortable. He scratched the back of his neck. Clearly they’d talked about him.
Well. If he was in front of the firing squad, might as well make his final stand memorable. “I see someone can’t stop talking ‘bout me.” He poked Anna Marie on the shoulder.
Jasmeen’s arms folded. “I see you weren’t kidding about him. Arrogant son of a bitch, isn’t he?” the snarl on her lip was playful, but probably hinted at more truth than Anna Marie preferred divulged just then.
He smiled apologetically. Jasmeen lifted a brow and returned to her seat (and cocktail). Jay didn’t stop her departure. Yep. Seemed exactly like the kind of friend that’d flock to Anna Marie. “You girls have fun. I’ll see you later,” he started to turn away when Anna Marie cornered him.
“Oh sush about all that, Jay. She’s protective. We work together at the pharmacy. Admittedly, I may have run my mouth for a while about you after we broke up.”
Jay didn’t blame her. Everything she told Jasmeen was likely to be deserved. Didn’t mean he was interested in sticking around to hear all about it.
“Why don’t we start over. Let me buy you a drink.” When she tugged on his hand, he didn’t resist. Not much, anyway. At least a bar would have a food menu. Hopefully.
A country-meets-Native American theme swallowed them up. Barstools were stretched leather. Deep colors painted the walls. Music played in the background. First thing he did after studying the bar’s layout was order a plate of food and a double-shot of tequila. Anna Marie slid into the stool alongside, legs crossed, arm crooked over the back of her seat. The point of her shoe accidentally grazed his ankle, sparking chills up to the thigh.
He attempted to breathe a deep, steadying gulp of air. It didn’t work. Luckily, the tequila was quickly laid before him. The first one went down smooth as gasoline. He kept the second on hand for now.
“Your mom told me you were in Africa.” She began casually. Like chatting with his mom took place on a regular basis. He tensed despite the shot. “How was it?”
And then he shifted uncomfortably in the seat.
She waved her hand. “Never mind. That’s okay. We can talk about something else.” She smiled and slurped at the martini glass presented to her.
“You said Cayli was fine? I thought she had cancer, but I never heard what kind.” Her voice was a polite mix of somber and interested.
Jay frowned a moment, studying the glasses. Yeah. That topic was better. “Uhm, yeah. I guess they made a mistake. There never was any cancer.”
Anna Marie gasped, eyes wide. “What?!”
Jay didn’t elaborate. This was a bad idea. Even a hot steak and potato-skins wasn’t worth the interrogation. Mom or dad might find them. Light knew he wanted to avoid that reunion as much as possible. Not to mention Natalie or Jensen might wander down any minute. Though it was unlikely the pastor would walk into a bar. But Natalie seemed like the kind to seek a good drink. In fact, the last time she had, it got her dragged off into the dark. Should have killed that guy when I had the chance. A moment of anger narrowed his eyes. Anna Marie tilted her head, fishing for his line of sight.
She laid a hand on his wrist. Perfectly manicured nails glinted with color. “I’m sorry, Jay.”
He just looked at her hand a minute. There were days he pondered what she would look like wearing a ring. What the expression on her face would reveal when she finally beheld the one he picked.
He withdrew a minute later in exchange for the drink, but stopped himself before wetting his lips.
“Wait. Do you know Dr. Diaz?” She seemed surprised, but nodded slowly.
“What do you know about him?”
She thought a moment. “He’s an asshole, but most doctors are, especially to the pharmacists. He is here on some temporary stay, filling in for someone that took a leave of absence. Came from out east. Baltimore I think. Very selective about the patients he takes.”
Surprisingly, Jay was more calm than he expected. Her information fit with what he knew. Bode well that he wasn’t insanely paranoid. “Does he have any friends in town? People he works with? Reports to? Anything like that.”
She shook her head. “Not that I know of. He’s in the med-onc lab a lot.”
He looked at her like he was suppose to know what that meant. She smiled for the poor sweet innocent Jay. “Medical oncology laboratory. I think he was a physician scientist trained at NIH or maybe the CDC. I’m not sure which. It’s common for people like him.”
Now they were getting somewhere. Maybe the torture of the earlier conversation would be worth it after all. Or maybe the tequila was loosening the vice around his chest. “What was he working on?”
“I thought he was working on cancer patients.”
“And?”
“And prolonging their lives of course.”
Memories flickered as he pieced the puzzle together. Back in the porsche, he talked about Cayli’s youth. He knew about channelers. Samples. Cancer. Life. It made no sense.
He licked his lips, kept his tone as careful as possible. No big deal at all. They weren’t talking about huge national conspiracies. This was just normal reunion chatting at a bar with an ex. “Has he worked with anyone with the Sickness?”
Anna Marie laughed. “Of course not. We’ve not had anyone like that here!” But her laugh was loud. Like when she used to laugh at jokes of other cheerleaders then turn to him and roll her eyes.
He fixed her with a knowing stare, heart pounding. She was lying. He leaned near. “Tell me what you know, Annie.” He stared, eyes bright with eager need beneath the brim of his hat. Jaw tight. He was close.
“You can trust me.”
Only darkness shows you the light.