Saturday, 10:00 p.m.
Union Hotel, Fort Benton
LAURA, CAMPBELL, AND BETHANN
“Now, wait a minute. Francine!” Campbell called, but she was already halfway up the stairs.
“Damn it all. Come back here!” He placed his hand on the banister.
“Campbell, before you go,” Laura said. “All I need is a room and then I’ll get out of your way.”
Without answering, Campbell rushed up the stairs. Laura ran up to the landing after him and heard pounding as he rose to the third floor above. She turned and came back down. With her skimpy clothes on, at least there was no one in the lobby except for the clerk. She wrapped Campbell’s jacket tighter around her.
“Miss?” Laura turned to the girl behind the reception counter. “Could you do me a favor?”
The girl held one hand over her mouth and the other hand just above the bell. She was wearing a crisp white shirt and black vest, two sizes too big.
“I don’t normally dress like this, Miss,” Laura said. “It was a costume party. I got mugged.”
“My manager, Mr. Martins, will not be pleased.”
“I just need a room. I’m freezing.”
“I could lose my job.” The girl held a finger over the buttons of the telephone.
“Just for tonight,” Laura said. “It’s late and I’m tired.”
“My mom told me not to take this job,” the clerk said. “It’ll be okay, Ma, there’s just nice people checking into the hotel.” The girl narrowed her eyes. “I don’t want to lie to my mom.”
“Honey,” Laura peered at her nametag. “Beth Ann. That’s a nice name.”
“You have one minute to get out of the hotel.”
“I have a nice mother too,” Laura chattered. “Mine’s in a rest home. I don’t want to lie to her either. Come on, I’ve got to stay inside. She says, ‘Laura honey, you have to be careful. Don’t you want to be safe, honey? Don’t you want to feel protected?’”
“That’s what my boyfriend said, and look what he did to me.” Beth Ann pulled up her white sleeve and showed off a blue-purple bruise the shape of a heart. “And he still goes out with my best friend.”
“I’m so sorry, Beth Ann.” Laura pulled out one manicured finger and touched the bruise. “That must hurt.” She paused. “How old are you?”
Beth Ann sniffed.
Laura heard footsteps behind her. Campbell?
“It’s a long story,” Beth Ann replied.
“Can I borrow some clothes while I listen?” Laura said. “My legs are freezing. Some guys tried to take advantage of me too.” Her bare feet were numb.
“I only have a minute,” Campbell squeezed around Laura’s place at the counter. “Miss, please?”
“Beth Ann,” Laura said. “Her name is Beth Ann. I’ve got this, Campbell.”
“You’ll need my credit card, regardless,” Campbell said, reaching for his wallet.
“Was it him?” Beth Ann asked Laura. She eyed Campbell.
“Miss?” He held out his card.
“No, it wasn’t him,” Laura whispered to Beth Ann. “He’s been great.”
Beth Ann smiled and pulled her sleeve back down. “We have a room for you, ma’am. A discount.” She pressed Campbell’s card back into his hand.
Campbell looked from Laura to Beth Ann and back again. “Everything okay?”
“How’s it going upstairs?” Laura asked.
“Not so good.”
Beth Ann disappeared and returned a minute later with a paper bag. “All I have are beach clothes. And a little bag of cosmetics, and sunscreen. It gets, like, 110 degrees out here in the summer in July.”
“Thanks.” Laura took the bag. “You’re a doll.” She came around the counter to the side, gave Beth Ann a big hug, and held a thumbs-up for Campbell. “See you in the morning, then?”
“Breakfast’s at seven,” Beth Ann said, putting her earbuds back in her ears.
Laura took the bag and the keys. At last. She was beat.
“Laura,” Campbell said, following her and stopping at the landing. “It’s not easy for me to ask a favor.” He stayed silent a moment.
“I’ve been tired so long I can’t think straight,” Laura said.
He tossed his own room keys and caught them. “All I’m asking . . . could you talk to Francine?”
“I’m not so good with kids.”
“Better you than me. Room three-oh-one.”
“She doesn’t know me,” Laura said.
“Could you try? I’ll be downstairs, here in the bar. She’s fourteen, just been a bit moody, doesn’t talk to me easily about, you know, girl stuff.” Anything for that matter, Campbell thought.
“Girl stuff? I don’t know. I’m a pole dancer, not a mom.”
He frowned. “Parents and kids, you know . . . this age. It’s tough. If you told her what happened, I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“I’ll tell her you’re a hell of a driver, will that help?”
“Maybe.”
“Probably knows more than you think,” Laura said, remembering when she’d been fourteen. The year Dad had left. That had been fun.
Campbell paused. “And before you do, could you put on some clothes?”
Laura laughed. “Sure.”
She climbed the two flights of stairs to her room. She’d be gone in the morning as soon as the money came in. She’d call Stella or, what the hell, wire the bank. But then what? Cash a check, but where? She had to remind herself to get up early.
Freshly showered and wearing Beth Ann’s sleeveless jersey top and too small shorty-shorts, she went upstairs to the third floor.
“Francine? It’s Laura . . . you know, that woman who came in downstairs with your dad?” Laura paused. She heard footsteps. “Could you open the door?”
Someone shuffled on the other side.
“I’m busy,” Francine said.
“Your dad . . .” Laura said, then realized that she was talking too loud. “I just need a second.”
Francine opened the door, keeping the chain on. “Oh, so you do wear clothes.”
“It’s a long story.”
“It always is,” Francine said, looking Laura up and down. “Every year they get younger and younger.”
“He saved my life,” Laura said.
“Of course he did.” Francine squinted. “Now, please leave me and my dad alone.” She shut the door.
Laura swore she saw tears in Francine’s eyes but couldn’t be sure. She was staring at a heavy wooden door while people up and down the hall opened theirs. She held her head high, hung Campbell’s jacket on the doorknob.
Back inside her room she called Stella, asked her to ship some clothes and cash to the hotel, and fell asleep as soon as she lay down. Five minutes later she heard pounding on her door.
Hell’s bells. She turned over and tried to get back to sleep.
The pounding continued.
“What the hell?” Laura staggered to the door and opened it a little bit. Someone was dressed in khaki pants and a light blue shirt. She focused on a face, an unshaved face, trying to remember. Oh, Campbell. “It’s late. I hung your jacket outside your door. Your daughter will talk to you in the morning.” And pigs would fly and her own father would come home and Mom was going to be all right. Sure.
“It’s already morning,” Campbell said. “I wanted to see if you were all right. Francine and I are about to take off.” He strode in and pulled aside thick brown curtains and looked out onto the river below. “Did you make your calls?”
Laura pulled the covers around herself and stood by the window. “Yeah, I should be all right,” she lied.
“Well. If you ever get to New York.” Campbell held out his card. “Pretty from here, don’t you think?”
“It’s water,” Laura replied.
“There’s more than water down there. There’s trees . . . and people on the patio having breakfast,” Campbell said. “I saw something in the parking lot. Something funny. I told Francine about it and she said lots of people drive red cars.”
“What kind of red car?” Laura asked.
“Francine wasn’t sure, so I went out to take a look,” Campbell said, standing back from the window. “Anyway, I gotta go. Thought you’d like to know.”
“Ford?” she asked.
“Those two guys look a little out of place, don’t you think?” From this vantage point even Laura could recognize Bart and his mustache.
“Why would they follow you all the way here?”
“Campbell, ever heard the expression ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’?”
“Of course.”
“It’s worse with men,” Laura said, feeling her mouth go dry. “Is there another exit out of this hotel?”