All The Way Down

Chapter 8

The room was brightly lit by the sunshine coming through the drapes by the time I was dressed. I had found a pair of clean jeans in my suitcase and pulled them on, and then tied on my jogging shoes. I put on a T-shirt and a long-sleeved green flannel shirt over it. I snapped Brick's watch on and ran a comb through my hair, then collected my wallet and car keys and went down to the parking lot.

I headed north out of town on Highway 70, then east on Highway 82, following the signs towards Cloudcroft.

The little rental car labored during the long uphill climb as I gained altitude and the air thinned. If I pressed the car to do better than 50, the engine just got louder; the car didn't seem to go any faster. That’s okay. The sun was out. Not a cloud in the sky. What’s the hurry?

Over the next twenty minutes the terrain changed drastically. The desert scrub and cactus gave way first to small evergreens and rocky soil, then to ponderosa pine, finally to a dense forest of fir and pine. A few vacation homes were visible from the road, perched on seemingly inaccessible crests of the twisting hills pierced by the interstate. I was sure that the views from the houses were amazing.

I reached Cloudcroft a few minutes before ten. I had expected to see more activity in the little town. Then I remembered that it was Sunday, and that a lot of people were probably still in church. I passed a small medical clinic, a strip of small businesses and western-themed bars, a gas station, and an LP gas distributor.

I could see the goal posts of a football field beyond the short business district. To my right, a convenience store abutted a national park information building. I pulled into the convenience store parking lot and parked next to a tan pickup truck.

In the convenience store, an elderly woman in a red fleece coat behind the counter told me how to get to the hotel. "Most of the roads on this side of the highway wind up at the hotel if you keep going uphill," she explained. "Just take this one," she pointed out the window behind her at the road. "It'll take you right to it."

The road climbed a steep hill past apparently vacant vacation homes set back from the road in stands of Ponderosa pine, Spruce, and Douglas fir. Most of the driveways in front of the homes were empty, despite the beautiful weather. I kept the car in low gear and pressed the gas pedal to the floor. When I reached the crest I was treated to the sight of a manicured golf green cut from a huge stand of tall trees. A foursome on the fairway was setting up to fire at the green. Moments later I pulled into the hotel parking lot.

The hotel was stunning, with walls of white stone and leaded glass. It looked solid, unshakable, and beautiful at the same time. The parking lot was nearly full of Cadillacs, BMWs, and new Jeeps. I went inside to a lobby that was warm and well lit. Beautiful rugs covered the floor in a deep red tone. A fire burned in a huge stone chimney at one end of the room. Even though it was summer time, the outside temperature was cool enough that I was glad I'd worn the flannel shirt.

Two children ran laps around the furniture by the fireplace. I went to the concierge desk and asked to see Miss Villareal. A handsome woman behind the desk gave me a smile. She wore a plaid skirt and a heavy, peach colored sweater.

"Are you Michelle's friend?" she asked.

"That's right."

"She said you'd be coming by this morning."

I nodded. "Here I am."

"Why don't you have a seat over by the fire and I'll let her know you're here."

"Thanks." I found a heavy chair that was close enough to the fireplace to do me some good. I stretched out in the chair, closed my eyes, and let the heat wash over me. The warmth was like a drug. I could feel my muscles relaxing. Occasionally a pocket of sap in one of the logs would catch fire and a small explosion of noise in the fireplace would pull me back from the edge of sleep.

"Hi."

I opened my eyes. Michelle was waiting in front of me in jeans, hiking boots, and a red down vest over a cream-colored button-down blouse. She looked like a model on her way to a fashion shoot in the country.

"Hi," I said. "Been standing there long?"

She gave me a wry grin. "Long enough to know that you snore."

"Is that a problem?" I asked.

"Only if you get lucky," she said. She turned on her heel. "Come on," she said. "I'll show you where I live." I held her hand as we went out of the hotel through the lobby doors.