Annie spent what might have been the worst night of her life in a cheesy little motel room several miles from Cul-De-Sac. She debated for hours about calling the police but Paul had been so panic-stricken at the prospect of involving the law that Annie knew he had to be doing something illegal … probably in partnership with that awful man.
She called Cul-De-Sac off and on through the night, Paul not answering the phone until eight in the morning. Annie begged for an explanation but he remained frustratingly evasive, asking her to be patient for a few days and then all their troubles would be over, warning her not to return to Cul-De-Sac, reminding her again not to go to the police.
Annie washed the blue dress in the motel’s bathtub and hung it over a heating vent to dry. She’d taken her purse when she fled Cul-De-Sac but left both suitcases and had to buy toothpaste and a toothbrush at the motel office.
Waiting for the dress to dry Annie got out her address book and looked up a telephone number, a contact in an old network she had established long ago to keep track of the man she’d been in love with for the past twenty-five years. Paul didn’t know about this of course, Annie considered it a harmless indulgence because she never intended to see or speak to the man again … she just liked to hear about him occasionally, it comforted her to know he was still alive.
Annie punched in the number, a woman in Maryland. Waiting for an answer she realized she was feeling jittery, the prospect of talking about him again, saying his name.
“Hello.”
“Barbara?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Annie Milton.”
“Who?”
“Annie Locken,” she said, using her maiden name.
“Annie!”
They spent several minutes catching up on news, Annie finally slipping in the question she’d called to ask, “Where’s Teddy these days?”
“Cripes, you’re not still tracking him are you?”
“I’d heard he was back in the D.C. area.”
“Is that where you are now?”
“My husband and I bought some property here.”
“And you’re going to look up Teddy, introduce him to your husband … that should be cute.”
“Do you have an address?”
“Annie, you know what kind of man he was when he dumped you, what kind of man do you figure he is now?”
The kind of man who can fix the trouble Paul’s in, Annie thought.
“A tiger doesn’t change his stripes,” her friend said. “I’ll give you the address but I hope you don’t have any illusions … he’ll be the same man he’s always been.”