Chapter 44

Thirty minutes later, Thom pulled into a shabby hotel’s parking lot beyond the city limits of Middleton.

Henry got out of the car, exhausted and with frayed nerves, and walked into the hotel.

In the lobby, a fancy chandelier hung from the ceiling and wood paneling with ornate carvings and trim decorated the walls. The floor had circular tile in the center beneath the chandelier and resembled a ballroom. It didn’t appear as shabby on the inside.

Thom approached the desk.

“One room for the night, please. Two queens. We’ll pay in cash.”

The concierge behind the desk took the payment and gave them the room keys. They went to the elevator and pressed the button. The elevator dinged at the second floor.

Any niceties of the hotel were left in the lobby. The hallway to their room showed old stained carpeting with drab paint that was a dingy, parchment white. The sign for the elevator was caved in, the remains of someone putting a fist into it. Thom was unfazed by the dilapidated appearance and went to their room.

The room was also worn and weary. The same old carpeting continued into the room and the air conditioning unit was loud and obnoxious. Wallpaper edges curled on the wall and the bed linens were frayed. A funny smell of bleach and mildew permeated the room. Thom walked in and threw his keys onto the television stand.

“Charley, listen—Henry and I will take the bed closest to the door. You take that one.” He waited until she acknowledged him, and then he looked at Henry also. “I’ll stay up so you two can get some rest.”

He went to Henry and pulled him close. Henry smelled Thom’s cologne, and the soothing familiarity of it calmed his anxiety. “I’m glad you’re alright,” Thom said. “Good thing you listened to your father about the watch and nightlight.”

He walked over to Charley. She sat on her bed and wore a frown. She looked away to a random object in the corner of the room. He crouched down to meet her at eye level.

Henry recognized the posture, the tone. As Thom’s son, he had been on the receiving end many times before.

“Hey, Charley, you’re not alone in this. I don’t know what has happened to Mr. and Mrs. Hellen. You might think you’re in free fall right now, but I promise I’ll get you through this. And I don’t make promises lightly.”

His words sunk home. She broke gaze from the random object and looked at him. She nodded.

“Now let me have a look at your side.”

The cut was long but mostly superficial, coursing its way up from her waist all the way to her shoulder blade. Thom found some first-aid supplies buried in the top of the closet and cleaned the wound with some rubbing alcohol. She winced, but allowed him to continue.

“It will heal. It’s not deep into the dermis. It will take a few weeks.” He turned back to Henry. “Sleep for now. Tomorrow morning I’ll tell you everything. And if this hole-in-the-wall of a hotel has room service, then we’ll have breakfast in bed,” he said with a smile.

Henry nodded in agreement. It was a tiny spark of something pleasant in an otherwise dreadful night.

With Thom as a sentry, Henry indulged in the moments of safety. Thom sat in a chair by the television stand, leg up on a table and holding his pistol, lost in thought. Charley fell asleep in minutes, breathing rhythmically. Henry drifted to sleep, only after his mind had tumbled with the thought that his father was much different than he knew.