Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I’ve got about a dozen jobs to do. Making sure Holly’s safe being chief among them.
“Take a right over there,” she says. “Our room’s on the second floor on that end.”
The Budget Stays Motel sign looks original to the building. I’d reckon the exterior hasn’t seen a paintbrush in almost twenty years. I park in an empty spot and follow her up to the room.
The door handle’s been busted, so all it takes is a gentle push to open it.
She was right to say the room looks torn apart. Whoever came in here was definitely looking for something—or in this case, someone. I’d venture to guess they were none too happy when they didn’t find her.
“Sorry for the mess,” Holly says, rushing to gather stray clothing and boxes of instant noodles off the floor. “It’s not normally like this.”
I don’t doubt for a second that she and McKenzie try their best to make the most of what they’ve got. Still, if you look below the clutter, past the crumpled sheets and the upturned mattresses, you can see the underlying state of the place isn’t much better.
“No need to tidy up for me, sweetheart. Just grab what you need so I can get you outta here.”
She pulls a backpack from the wreckage and starts loading it up with clothes and toiletries. I study the broken doorknob. Whoever wanted inside didn’t hesitate. The damn thing is barely holding on.
Holly emerges from the bathroom clutching a shiny black case to her breast. “Thank God,” she breathes.
“What you got there?”
“My makeup case,” she says. “It’s possibly the most precious thing I own.”
“I’d say your life’s a hell of a lot more precious than a box of lipsticks. Besides, you don’t need to cover your face in creams and powders to get attention.”
“I know,” she says, frowning. “It’s not about getting attention. Why would I want people to look at me? I’m socially anxious.”
“What’s it about then?”
“Playing with colors. Being creative. Doing someone’s makeup is like painting a landscape on their face. But unlike regular canvas, faces have their own distinct shapes and textures. No two faces are the same, and even the same face changes over time.” She holds out the makeup case. “These aren’t just creams and powders. They’re art supplies.”
As a man, I can’t say I’ve given much thought to makeup as an artform. I remember my mom always wore bright lipstick when she went out. So did my sister. But regardless of my limited understanding, Holly’s makeup case is obviously important to her. The last thing I want to do is join the undoubtedly long list of people who never took her strengths or interests seriously.
“I stand corrected,” I tell her.
She smiles, but her satisfaction is short lived as she scans the mess around her with a glint of sadness. “I think that’s everything. I still can’t find my purse or my phone.”
I walk her to my truck and tell her to wait inside while I stop by the main office to ask her boss about the man who was here this morning. Doreen corroborates Holly’s statement about him being bald and beaten up.
“He was a real piece of work,” Doreen says, flipping her frizzy blonde hair over her shoulder. “Gave me attitude when I said I don’t keep tabs on my tenants. I thought he was a cop.”
“Did he say he was a cop?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “You sound like a cop.”
“You’re very perceptive. Think I could get a look at his business card?”
She takes a drag off her cigarette. “Maybe. What’s it worth?”
I reach for my wallet. She fishes a white card out of a messy desk drawer and exchanges it for a twenty. The card is blank except for a phone number scrawled on one side by a careless hand.
“Did he ask you to give this to anyone?”
“No,” she says. “He asked about McKenzie, then told me to call that number if I saw her or her friend.”
“He asked about both girls?”
“That’s what I said.”
My grip tightens on the stock paper. This asshole is looking for Holly.
“Did you tell him which room they’re staying in?” I ask.
“Didn’t need to.” She exhales a cloud of smoke. “He said he’d already tried their room but no one answered.”
She clearly hasn’t seen the damage yet. I slide my thumb across the surface of the card. Somehow this guy had learned which room the girls were staying in before he arrived.
I pull a few more twenties from my wallet, along with my own business card. “If McKenzie shows up, I’d appreciate it if you’d pass this along with the message that if she wants to talk to Holly, she should call me.”
Doreen takes the money and tosses my card into the desk drawer.
“By the way,” I say, “as of today, Holly no longer works for you.”