by DJ Owen
"You've moved past food to hopes and dreams? Are you sure you two aren't moving a bit too fast?" Alex's protective nature was getting the better of her. She knew that relationships move a lot faster now than they did when she met Jeremy, but it hadn't even been a week since Mark first asked Monica out.
"Oh, that's hilarious, Alex. No, not too fast. But we talk all the time and I think he really cares about me. And besides, you're the one who told me I needed to encourage him."
"So you're going to throw that in my face, are you?" Alex was trying to lighten the mood of the conversation. "I should have known you wouldn't forget that."
Monica laughed. "Of course not! That's what sisters are for...to throw things in each others' faces!"
Alex chuckled. "You started to say something about why you were calling. Was it just to remind me of how wonderful Mark is?"
"Oh! That's right! I called because the partners decided to take all the lawyers and paralegals on a team-building event. They set it up at a camp about an hour from here. There's a ropes course and everything."
"Really? Those penny-pinchers are willing to spend that kind of money on their minions? I am completely shocked!" Alex chuckled. She often teased Monica about needing to find a job where she could get a raise now and then.
Monica laughed in response. "I know! I couldn't believe it, either! Here's the thing, though. It's scheduled for Friday and Saturday of next week. We'll come home late Saturday night.
"Are you kidding me? They're actually going to pay you for a day away from work? Is there mass hysteria going on between the partners?"
"No, no hysteria," Monica managed to get out through her laughter. She missed this ... laughing with her sister over silly things. "But going on this bonding expedition means I get to see more of Mark, and who knows? We may just bond! Besides, the trip is pretty much mandatory. They said we need to have a doctor's note to get out of it."
"That sounds more like the partners we all know and love. Forced bonding. I get it now that you tell me they are ordering you to go, like that's going to build the team. Oh, it will build the team...they will all join together against one enemy -- the one holding them captive on their free time!" Alex never had a lot of respect for lawyers, and Monica had relayed enough stories about her law firm's partners to make her skin crawl. They paid the paralegals a flat salary and made them work sixty or more hours a week, while the partners billed a lot of the hours at lawyer rates so they could rake in the profit. Alex didn't think it was legal, and definitely not ethical. Monica seemed to be happy there, though, especially now that Mark had joined the practice.
Monica was still laughing. "So, Alex, can you come back to town next weekend to be here for Amy? If not, I'll have to check with the mothers of Amy's friends to see if she can spend the night. I know she's old enough and responsible enough to spend a night alone, but I'm not keen on us both being out of town and unavailable."
"I'll make it happen, don't you worry. I know you have been dreaming about going to camp since you were a kid." Alex may have to make a return trip to Narragansett, but she didn't want to cause any problems for Monica.
"Alex, you are the best! Any idea when you'll be here?"
Alex gave it some thought and promised to be there no later than Thursday. "That way, you'll know I'm there to take over before you go. You can forget all about your responsibilities and feel free to bond with Mark all you want."
"Terrific! I'll give Amy the news."
"No! Let me surprise her, okay? I'll plan something special for the two of us for Saturday. We haven't had a mother-daughter day in quite awhile."
"But I already told her about the team-building. I told her I had to ask you if you could be here," Monica explained.
"That's fine. Just tell her I'll try to make it but that you'll figure out a Plan B in case I can't get back. Make up some story that you're asking a friend from work to watch her or something, okay? I really want to surprise her." Alex wasn't sure why it was important to her that Amy not know she was coming back so soon. Maybe Amy looking forlorn when Alex couldn't promise a summer trip had her feeling a bit guilty.
"Okay, you're the mom. But I wish I had known before I ever mentioned this trip to her. I wouldn't have said anything at all." Monica made a mental note to always speak with Alex before mentioning anything to Amy.
"Thanks, Monica! I'll see you next Thursday." They said their good-byes and hung up. Alex debated what to do next. For the first time in a long time, Alex thought about the danger she was courting whenever she met up with a guy like Brad. She touched where her head had hit the rock and could still feel the last of the soreness. If she hadn't managed to stab him in the throat before he threw her down, she may have left Amy without a mother. That was a close call.
However, on the other hand, she knew that Amy and all other females were putting their lives at risk whenever they met a new guy. It didn't have to be at a bar, and it didn't have to include alcohol. The deaths of her mother and dad attested to that. Someone must have drugged bottles of water her parents left in the car or something. Amy could have the same thing happen to her at school. Alex shuddered, and made up her mind.
CHAPTER TEN
This was what Alex enjoyed the most. She looked at her clean-cut image in the bathroom mirror and began the routine that turned her into a bar maven. She changed into the skin-tight jeans, boots and the black revealing top she had purchased Monday in Columbus. She layered on the concealer, foundation, blush and powder. Next came vibrant eye shadow, bold eyeliner, and what seemed like half a tube of mascara. She finished up with a dark red lip liner, lipstick to match and gloss to make them shine. The final step in her transformation was adding the red-haired wig. She fastened it in place and looked in the mirror at the new person standing there. She looked like a younger version of Ms. Meadows, a little thinner and decked out to pick up a man.
Before leaving the motorhome, she tied on a scarf to keep her wig in place, added driving gloves, stowed her new knife in her boots and found where she had stashed her Hide-a-Key. She stuffed a few dollars in her pocket and left the Winnebago as quietly as she could. It was close to 10:30 p.m., and she didn't want the neighbors looking out to find the source of any noise. After locking up, she slid the extra key into the Hide-a-Key and slipped it in the wheel-well near the door. Silently she headed along the drainage ditch and crossed the road to the stand of trees where she left the motorcycle. She started it up and rode toward the county line.
Alex had a gut feeling that Meadows' attacker would be out tonight. Her intuition also told her he would be at The Lighthouse, a bar just a few miles away from where he met Meadows. She parked behind the donut shop a few doors down and repurposed her scarf as a belt. She felt a familiar sense of destiny as she sauntered toward the bar.
This tavern reminded Alex of so many others. It was darkened by closed blinds and heavy curtains. Stools stood like soldiers along the bar countertop. There were several four-top tables in the middle of the floor, and booths along the exterior walls. Alex looked around at the few patrons. Meadows had mentioned that the man who assaulted her had a tattoo on the right side of his neck. She said it looked like part of a larger tattoo, but what she saw was a crescent moon and the head of a baying wolf. There was only one man who looked to be the right age. Alex walked past him and glanced toward his right side. He was wearing a t-shirt which clearly showed an unmarked neck.
Making her way to an empty table toward the rear where she could watch the door, Alex caught the eye of a waitress and asked for a virgin Strawberry Colada. She heard the churning of the blender and the drink appeared a few minutes later.
A couple of kids came in the bar, prompting the bartender to ask for proof of their age. She heard bits and pieces of their conversation as the boys went from brash to pleading to anger. The bartender escorted them out as they loudly objected.
Five women entered the bar and sat a few tables away from Alex. They ordered drinks and spoke of working late, low
pay and unfair bosses. Alex took a moment to appreciate working for herself, realizing that not everyone had the skills and willingness to freelance. She thought of Monica as a prime example. Monica could probably become a virtual paralegal, offering her services to various law firms and real estate agencies. She could probably make a lot more money, though she would have to carry her own insurance and pay her own taxes. The problem was that Monica would never be able to market herself. She rarely spoke to strangers, even taking a long time to warm up to co-workers.
It was nearing 12:30 when a man walked in and took a seat at the bar. He ordered a beer, and checked the watch he wore on his right arm.
Alex tried to see his neck, but couldn't tell if he had a tattoo or not from where she was sitting. She was about to get up and walk toward the restroom so she could see the right side of his neck when a woman walked into the bar. Alex was dumbfounded. She was sure it was Margaret Meadows.
A thousand thoughts hit Alex's head all at once. She couldn't believe Meadows would put herself in that same situation again, especially so soon. What is that woman thinking, Alex wondered. Why would a woman seek out the very same circumstances that caused her so much pain? Does she have a death wish?
In all the years Alex had been researching unsolved crimes, she had never heard of someone returning to the same type of environment so soon unless out of necessity. Many of the crimes started in establishments just like this one, and usually the women would swear off bars and drinking in general for months or years, if not a lifetime. Assuming they lived, of course. Most of them didn't.
Alex leaned back in her chair so that she was sitting in the shadows. She watched as Meadows picked out a booth within eyesight of the man at the bar. He turned to look at her and nodded. Meadows nodded back and struck a come-hither pose. The man turned back around and ordered a drink. It appeared to Alex to be something creamy and fruity, something a woman would order. Once it was served, he picked up his beer and the drink. He slid off the barstool and wandered over to Meadows' booth.
They were too far away for Alex to hear the conversation, but she could still watch what unfolded in front of her. She expected Meadows to shoo the man away, but he sat down. Meadows leaned forward, showing the man the treasures halfway hidden beneath her blouse.
Alex could not move. She considered interrupting the duo and pulling Meadows outside, giving her a good talking to and sending her home. Listening once more to her gut, she stayed in the shadows at her table. She couldn't exactly let Meadows figure out what she was doing there, especially having gone from almost black to red hair, and professional to bar slut. So she sat and watched.
The man and Meadows were obviously flirting, and Meadows started looking for something in her purse. She spilled its contents on the floor, and as she leaned over to collect what had escaped the confines of her pocketbook, Alex saw the man add something to Meadows' drink. He stopped blending it into her drink as Meadows sat up straight in the booth.
This is unreal! Alex was beside herself. She couldn't allow Meadows to be attacked again. Something is really not right. Should I tell the bartender what I saw? He seems like a straight-up kind of guy. Maybe he will throw the bum out.
The people in one of the booths next to Meadows left the bar. The waitress wiped down the table and collected her tip. Alex saw her chance and moved to that booth, hoping Meadows didn't notice. She was able to see the right side of the man's neck, and there was no tattoo.
The waitress headed in her direction with a quizzical look on her face, but Alex shook her head and held up her hand in the traditional 'no thanks' gesture.
She listened in on Meadows' conversation and wondered if she heard correctly.
A soft, flirtatious voice was the first to speak. "I would love to go for a ride. Maybe we could talk and get to know each other better."
The man replied, "That sounds good. I've been waiting for someone like you for a long time." They both laughed.
Meadows started to get up from her seat and said, "Oh, dear! My head feels a little fuzzy and the room is beginning to spin. Could you help me up?"
"Of course!" The man chuckled. "I'll even help you out of those clothes, if you want me to. And maybe even if you don't!"
"Mmmm, yes, that sounds wonderful!" Meadows giggled. "I hope you find some place a little more private this time."
THIS TIME??? Alex considered what Meadows' was saying.
"Yeah, I though we would park in the garage. It's not sexy, but it's private." The man sounded matter-of-fact.
"I could not believe it when those two kids drove up. And then you left me there to explain! It's a good thing they didn't get the license plate, and that I had the sense to say you have a tattoo."
The two were moving toward the door. The last thing Alex heard was the man saying, "I panicked. I'm sorry! You're right, you're better at this than I am. Now, can we get back to the fantasy?"
Alex had been played a fool. She had believed Meadows' story, as had the kids, the cops and the reporter. Maybe that was why she couldn't get anything out of the nurses at the hospital. Perhaps they knew Meadows had been in on her own attack. Could it be? Are they ... a couple? Alex wasn't normally this wrong about someone, but Meadows knew just what to say.
A maroon SUV was pulling out of the parking lot when Alex stepped from the bar. She saw Meadows in the driver's seat with a scowl on her face. Evidently their discussion became heated and had killed the mood.
Alex walked back to the motorcycle and rode back toward the RV park. She stopped and killed the engine a few doors away from the storage facility, and walked the bike around back. It didn't take long to find the wires that held the fence in place. She managed to get the motorcycle back where it had been and removed the wire she had used to bypass the ignition. She walked briskly back to her camper and removed the stolen license plate. She had been prepared in case she eliminated the attacker and the police started running license plates seen leaving the state. No one would connect Brad's murder with one in Rhode Island if no plate matched.
After she returned the license plate to the camper in the storage lot, she wiped down the plate and the bike to make sure no one found her prints. She fastened back the fence and returned to the Winnebago, mentally kicking herself for being suckered by Meadows.
She silently entered and put the Hide-a-Key in a drawer. She peeled out of the skin-tight clothes and wiped off her garish greasepaint. She lost count of how many make-up remover pads she used. She removed her wig and stashed it in her wardrobe for use another night.
Still furious with herself, Alex poured herself a glass of wine to take to bed. She never drank alcohol when she was going to be driving, but she knew she was home for the night. The wine did its trick and she eventually calmed down enough to fall asleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nightmares replaced dreams as Alex slept. Visions of being strangled and unable to breathe caused her to whimper. A dream had taken her to a dark forest full of mist and slithering things with eyes that burned fiery red. The moon filtering through the treetops barely illuminated her way. She felt drawn to a particular place, but feared what she would find there. Almost feeling her way through the never ending forest, Alex was full of dread. She saw something in the shadows and crept forward until the form coalesced into a body. It was a female form with limbs askew. Alex moved closer until it dawned on her...she was looking at her own dead body. She saw a dark stain emanating from a hole where her heart should be. She heard the snap of a limb and looked into the surrounding trees for the source. There was her daughter's face peering out from the dark.
Alex sat bolt upright in bed, shivering in fear and taking quick, shallow breaths. She had never felt fear like that, not even when Brad was getting the best of her. She feared for the Amy in the nightmare, and she feared for herself.
A glass of water stopped her shaking, but she remained aware of a gnawing feeling of dread. Rather than trying to sleep, Alex decided to go online and research other att
acks. The sun was up at 7:00 a.m., and was all the encouragement Alex needed to head to Monica's. She straightened up the Winnebago, ate breakfast and showered. Her singular goal was to take Amy in her arms and never let go.
She drove to the campground office and flushed the Winnebago. She spoke with the manager and explained that a family emergency meant she needed to leave prior to the end of her reservation. She settled the bill and bought a cup of coffee and a few snacks for the road.
Alex had always considered herself to be stronger than most. She was logical about everything, even when others thought her actions were reckless. She didn't believe in horoscopes, space aliens, Bigfoot or ghosts. She certainly didn't believe in premonitions or dreams coming true. Yet she could not shake the uneasiness her nightmare had caused. She tried listening to music and then talk radio. She would have called Amy or Monica, but they were in the midst of their own lives.
Her mind finally drifted to the night before. Why would any couple incorporate rape fantasies into their relationship? So much could go wrong. The man's hands had left deep bruising on Meadows' neck. What if the teens hadn't come by? Would he, in fact, have killed her? Or was the strangling a predetermined way for them to ensure her story was believable?
She could imagine that conversation: "Hey, let's park somewhere and I'll attack you. If anybody shows up, I'll start strangling you and leave marks, then drive away. That way, if the interlopers take you to the hospital, you'll have evidence of being attacked. You can give a false description, and no one will be the wiser." Then Meadows would reply, "Yes, and our fantasy life will be kept secret because I can't bear for anyone to know about our role playing." Alex couldn't help but add Meadows saying, "And for good measure, I'll talk with any reporters and fool them, too! What fun!"
