Pity and a Shame

Chapter 13

Gwen knew what the closed sign on the office meant, thinking of the knife, as she hastily loaded her things into Mickey's rental car that he'd parked behind her unit. She could hear the faint ring of the office phone and knew it wouldn't be answered. Now she was positive that he was Paynter's killer as well.

She slammed the trunk lid and leaned on it, head hanging down, mind churning. What the hell am I going to do? She could rat Mickey out for the manager's murder and probably make him the prime suspect for Paynter's but then she would have to divulge whom she was and what she was doing in Split Oaks.

Mickey would be exploiting that for all it was worth. She could run, but if Mickey was caught it would be the same story only more confusing and equally dangerous. Gwen clenched her fists and shook them at the sky. She retrieved her purse from the car and went back to the room. Let's make sure the bastard is still alive first. Mickey was still on the floor, but he wasn't moving.

Gwen knelt down and checked his pulse; it was weak but present. She stood and went to the bed, sitting down hard and staring emptily at her ex lover. How had this all happened so suddenly? All she wanted to do was get away; there was no money from Paynter and nothing else to stay for.

Gwen watched his chest rise and fall ever so slightly; the trickle of blood from where the can hit him ran down into his eyebrow and settled in clot. She began to mull over the facts and her suppositions. Mickey somehow traced her to Paynter's from Germany, probably through the same guy she followed. And the only reason Mickey came after her was because after he saw Paynter, he thought she got the money, and killed him – which means they both came up short.

Paynter died for nothing. Son of a bitch - the bottle! Gwen racked her brain trying to remember what happened to it, realizing full well it had stayed where it fell, and it was covered in her fingerprints. Considering that and the dead motel manager, running was definitely the stronger option. The problem was, they'd have to run together. The son of a bitch was pretty clever to find her in the motel; maybe he can be just as clever getting them away from here.

She dragged him up onto the bed and got a damp cloth to bathe his eyes; the finger on his left hand looked broken and Gwen decided to tend to that while he was still out. The sharp pain brought him around immediately, and Gwen jumped back from the bed, ready for any assault. He pushed himself up on one elbow and lifted the cloth from his face, grunting as his eyes began to tear.

"What was that stuff?" He put his fingers to his face and yelped, feeling the damage for the first time. "Shit, what's this?" He examined the strips of torn sheet and the ballpoint pen splinting his finger.

"The stuff was, appropriately, bug repellant, and the break is from the ice bucket." She lit a cigarette and leaned comfortably against the dresser. "We can discuss your physical problems later, right now we have to get out of here."

"We?"

"Unfortunately, yes. The phone's been ringing in the office all morning. We can't stay here any longer; someone's bound to come and check." She saw his expression and she frowned at him. "I know what you did, Mickey."

"Where's the knife?" He edged up into a sitting position.

"Somewhere safe, and before you start tearing this place apart, it isn't here. I put it away for insurance."

"Insurance."

"Yes. You try anything with me, Mickey and the cops get the knife."

She hoped she was selling her lie and when he made a face, she relaxed inside. "Just be good, that's all." Gwen suddenly looked, cocking her head toward the door. She crossed the room and peered past the edge of the curtain to see the man rattling the office door, banging it a few times and stepping back to look around.

She recognized him as one of the salesmen staying at Riverview. The man clapped his hands against the side of his head and stomped back to his car, revving the engine and roaring off the lot. She crossed the room and took the car keys from her purse then changed her mind and took both her purse and her jacket.

"Where are you going?"

"To get the car from around back. One of the salesmen just came back and tried to get into the office."

"I'm coming with you." He made a noise as he swung his feet off the bed and tried to stand.

"I'll bring the car around, you just wait here."

"I'm not waiting anywhere, Gwenny. Not while I don't have any of the dough, and you have that knife."

"There isn't any dough Mickey. You and I blew everything he had in Germany."

"He got an inheritance."

"Right. That shithole farm. You want it?"

He gritted his teeth and watched her go out the door. No money. Two dead men and no money. He pulled himself to his feet and went to the bathroom, running the tap and splashing cold water in his burning eyes with his good hand. He considered what he knew and after thinking it through, chastised himself for acting stupidly.

She had already beaned her ex with a bottle, if he had simply finished him off there, she would be the only suspect. If she had gotten any money she wouldn't have hung around this joint, she'd have found herself a car. Mickey leaned into the mirror, examining his eyes and squinting from the stinging pain. The bottle! He can counter her threat of the knife with the bottle!

He heard the car stop in front and a moment later she stepped back inside.

"Get all our stuff together and let's go."

"What about the room, our prints are all over it?" He said coming out of the bathroom.

Gwen cursed and went past him, grabbing a towel and tossing it to him as she came back. "Start cleaning, I'll take everything else out to the car."

Mickey mumbled and began wiping down the furniture, light switches and doorknobs. When she went outside, it occurred to him that if he left some sign of her in the room it would go a long way to incriminating her in the manager's death, particularly when they found out who she was... he finished the places he knew he'd touched and tossed the towel back into the bathroom.

"Finished?" She asked, opening the door and waiting.

"Yep."

"Let's go then."

"Where are we headed?" They climbed into the rental car and drove out of the motel lot in the direction of Split Oaks.