A knock at the door of 217 went unanswered.
The sound roused Dede. She looked over at Tony, snoring on the opposite bed, his mouth agape.
Uncertainty marked Dede’s face. “Tony?”
He didn’t stir. The knock sounded again, louder this time. She fumbled for the phone, to check the time. Surely Tony wouldn’t have slept through his client’s business appointment. But no: a glance at the phone confirmed that they weren’t due to appear for another couple of hours, after the bars closed. Stealing another glance at Tony’s prone figure under the covers, Dede rose with a whispered curse and crept to the door.
She unlocked the dead bolt, but left the security chain attached in its metal track. The chain let the door open only a couple of inches. She peered through the crack.
“Damn, Dede. Let me in. It’s cold out here.”
Mandy stood on the other side of the door, shivering. She rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms.
Dede released the chain lock and let Mandy inside. “Keep your voice down. He’s sleeping.”
Mandy crossed to Tony’s bed, teetering on ill-fitting stiletto shoes. Looking down, she snorted with a brief laugh.
“He’s out. You could set off a bomb in here and it wouldn’t bother him.”
“Don’t be so sure. He’s not in a very good mood when he wakes up.”
Mandy crossed over to the desk. She picked up a red plastic cup and looked inside.
“Is this clean?”
“I dunno. Maybe.”
Mandy’s face wore a skeptical expression, but she poured a measure of vodka into the cup and added fruit punch. After taking a long sip, she strutted to Dede’s bed and extended her hand, palm up.
“Gimme.”
Dede punched a pillow and propped it against the headboard. Leaning back, she gave Mandy a flat stare.
“It’s mighty early. Not last call at the bar for a couple hours. I’m surprised to see you back here already. How’d you do tonight?”
“Seven dates. In six hours. I want my medicine. I earned it.”
“Where’s the money?”
“In my cooter.”
Dede nodded with approval. “That’s the safest place.”
Mandy winked over the rim of the red cup. “Not like I can stuff it in my big old titties.” She arched her back, displaying her flat chest.
Dede opened the drawer of the bedside table that separated the hotel beds. Fishing through a collection of pill bottles, she chose one and shook out two tablets.
“This’ll relax you.”
“Good.” Mandy popped the pills and swallowed them with a gulp from the cup. “I’m going to hop in the shower. I can smell myself.”
Mandy kicked off her shoes and picked up a damp towel from the floor. In a voice of warning, Dede said, “Not in here. You might wake him up. He’s been kind of strung out, making important business connections, plus handling the new girls.”
“Yeah, well. Too bad.”
“I ain’t kidding. He’ll eat you alive.”
Mandy paused, seeming to rethink the warning. She stepped away from Tony’s bed and inclined her head at the door that connected to the next room.
“You want me to go in there? With the little pageant princess?”
“Yeah.” Dede rolled off the bed; opening the connecting door, she took a look inside. “It’s okay, just don’t raise a ruckus. They’re both out.”
“Both? Who’s in there with the new girl?”
Dede shook her head, with a look of misgiving. “Some old broad. I told him we shouldn’t fool with her, but he’s got a lot of trade coming in. And she was eager, at first anyway. But she got kind of feisty. Tony had to use the cuffs on her. She’s so damn big, he just cuffed one of her wrists to the bed.”
“I thought he still had the princess in cuffs.”
Dede shook her head. “She’s settled down. But he’s got her tied up.”
A crust of mucous circled one of Dede’s eyelids, and she rubbed at it. “He sent me to Walmart for more rope. I got the yellow kind. Hope it doesn’t mark her up too bad.”
Mandy peered into the dark room. “Old Tony’s got his hands full.”
“And he’s out of duct tape. I’m supposed to get some tomorrow.”
Mandy glanced over her shoulder. “Why wait? The place by the gas station is open twenty-four hours.”
“He thought it would be funny, buying duct tape in the dark of the night. Could draw some attention. Besides, the big old broad is out like a light. Shouldn’t wake up for a long time. We can stuff a sock in her mouth if she makes any noise. That’s what he said.”
Mandy pushed the door open. “Where am I supposed to sleep?”
“On the floor.”
Mandy turned, her voice indignant as she said, “I been working all night long. And I’m supposed to sleep on the fucking floor? Like a dog?”
Dede jumped off the bed. “You keep your voice down.”
“What am I supposed to use as covers? It’s cold.”
Dede waved a hand in the direction of the bed near the bathroom. “Take her bedspread. Hell, take the blanket, too. She’s not going to notice. And Tony will wake up here before long, for the late-night business. Then you can come back in here.”
As Mandy walked into Room 218, Dede closed the door shut behind her, leaving Mandy in darkness. She felt her way across the room, dragging her fingers along the top of the dresser.
When she reached the bathroom, she groped for the light switch on the wall and flipped it on. A few bottles of hotel toiletries were scattered beside the sink. The shampoo bottle was empty.
“Shit,” she said, not bothering to whisper. Even a cheap motel ought to hand out fresh shampoo every day. Tony probably wasn’t giving the hotel maid access to the room. Pretty hard to explain the restraints on the new girls.
She jerked the plastic shower curtain aside and saw a small bar of soap resting on the drain of the tub. She picked it up and placed it in the soap dish, then turned on the shower full blast. Sticking her hand under the spray, she shivered.
“What kind of shithole doesn’t have hot water at this time of night?” she groused. She adjusted the faucet; the water warmed up a shade. She would give it a couple of minutes.
As she waited, she leaned against the doorway of the bathroom, idly watching the occupants of the two beds. The handcuffed woman snored, her head turned away on the pillow.
Mandy intended to appropriate that pillow. And the bedding. Walking barefoot to the near side of the bed, she jerked the bedspread off the woman’s prone body. As Dede had predicted, the woman didn’t stir. And Dede was right; once her underwear-clad figure was revealed, Mandy could tell she wasn’t the young brand of hooker that Tony preferred.
She walked to the head of the bed, grabbed the pillow, and pulled it away from the woman’s head. The movement made the sleeping head rotate slightly, exposing the hooker’s face in the light shining through the bathroom door.
Mandy suppressed a screech. It couldn’t be.
Her hand trembled as she grasped the woman’s chin in her fingers, turning her face to the light. No duct tape covered her mouth. Even with her eyes closed, Mandy knew that face.
She stepped away, bumping into the wall. As her heart began to race, Mandy’s chest rose and fell. She shot a frightened glance at the closed door that separated her from Tony; then looked back at the unconscious woman.
Her wrist was cuffed to the bed. Mandy tiptoed up to the mattress and ran her finger along the chain, where it connected to the frame. Grasping the cuff that encircled the bed frame, she gave it a jerk. It was secure.
She backed away, chewing on her knuckle. The shower sent a cloud of steam into the room. Mandy walked back to the bathroom and faced the mirror. It had fogged. “Oh my God,” she said. She turned around and looked again at the unconscious figure. She said, “What the fuck do you think you’re up to, Elsie?”
There was, of course, no answer. In a whisper, Mandy added, “When he finds out you set him up, he’ll kill us both.”
She leaned into the tub, gave the faucet a twist, and the shower dripped to a halt. Standing with her hand on the knob, her mouth worked, as if Mandy was engaging in an internal debate. She gave her head a brisk shake. “Just a pack of Parliaments,” she said. “That’s all she ever done for me.” Still, a look of regret etched across her face. She lifted her shoulders in a helpless gesture.
With a sigh, she checked the closet outside the bathroom. A woman’s winter jacket hung inside, dangling over a pair of shoes. She slipped the jacket over her tank top. The sleeves hung past her fingertips; and when she donned the shoes, she looked like a kid trying on her mother’s footwear.
She wobbled toward the door of Room 218, her feet slipping out of the high heels of the too-large shoes. She unlocked the door with care, making sure that the battered chain didn’t make a sound. As she eased through the door, she glanced over her shoulder and gave the sleeping woman a final look.
Shaking her head, Mandy disappeared into the night.