“In July? I’m an exotic dancer. My boss and his two pals tried to rape me.”
“Dear God.”
“That’s what I say,” Laura said. “You got a jacket or something? I’m freezing.”
“In the back.”
Laura reached behind her. “Oh shit . . .”
Campbell heard the whine of another car.
He checked his rearview mirror, and punched it. The engine exploded under his command. They blew down the side street in a hail of dark gray smoke and the smell of rubber. A minute later, they were heading north on Highway 87.
“Where are you taking me?”
“I’ll help you as far as the Fort Benton police station,” Campbell said, shifting into fifth. “Then I’m going to the Union Hotel for a drink, a strong drink, and I’m going to see my daughter, and take off for the river in the morning.”
“Where the hell is Fort Benton?”
“An hour out of Great Falls. It’s a small river town. My name’s Campbell.” He waved his hand. “Hello.”
“Laura, and thank you,” she said.
“You always hang out with guys like that and jump into stranger’s cars?”
“No . . . I mean, I don’t mean to.”
“Not such a good idea, you think? Laura, I could’ve been a real weirdo.”
“You look like a real nice guy to me,” she said, admiring his sandy hair, blue chambray shirt, and wide set blue eyes. ”Nope, you don’t look like a bad guy at all. A real sweetheart.”
“Don’t go that far,” he said. His business associates in New York would never think so. He was nervous, and talking helped. He pulled beyond town and up onto the wide prairie where it was dark and his lights illuminated only a ribbon of road. “Fort Benton is a lot safer than Great Falls, I’d say.”
“I appreciate all you’ve done,” she said.
Campbell could hear the tremble in her voice. He cleared his throat. She looked so vulnerable shivering with cold. All that blood; that worried him some. “You’re a hell of a fighter.” He downshifted around a turn. “So, Laura”—he had to maintain control—“how did you fight off three guys at once?”
“Long story and I don’t want to talk about it.”
He set the cruise control to seventy-five and looked her over. Good God, what a body! Legs up to her . . . he stopped himself. Hell’s bells. She could just as easily be Francine or one of her friends. A thousand times he had told her not to hitchhike. Did she ever listen to him? No.
“I used my best Manolos.”
“That right?” He had no idea. “Expensive?”
“Kind of,” she said.
“What kind of work do you do when you’re not beating up guys?”
“It’s a tough business,” she said, her voice wobbly. The sobs came from deep inside her, pushing the corners of her mouth down, water seeping into her eyes.
Campbell hadn’t seen this much emotion since his last board meeting when old man Jonas had a bone stuck in his throat. He tried to compose himself. Stay safe, he thought. Stay safe and get rid of her. She doesn’t matter. Right. He felt like a heartless bastard. Just like Francine always said.
He pulled over, shoved the BMW into park, reached out, and put his arm around her shoulder.
“Your jacket’s nice,” Laura said, trying her best to fight off tears.
He watched her for a second or two, the fight in her reminding him of his own girl, and he put out his hand again, tentatively, and Laura reached over to him, buried her face in his shirt, and sobbed.
A few minutes later, he smoothed the hair back on her forehead. She smelled like sweat and fear. “So, what’s your plan?”
She pulled back and stared through the windshield at the dark sky.
“Get as far away from Great Falls as I can. I had to leave my purse back there, and all my money. I’m up a creek.”
“When I get off the river in a few days, I can help you get back on your feet,” Campbell said. “Somehow.” What was he thinking? He had Francine to take care of, for Chrissakes.
“I’ll be long gone by then,” she said.
“Right.” Then Campbell was silent. She was a cipher. Not someone he needed to know. His life was too complicated as it was.
Five minutes later, they were speeding along the highway. Cattle country. Campbell loved these wide-open spaces and tons of stars. Didn’t see anything like them in New York. Rising out of the valley, he took the curves hard and fast in his little speedster. Neat. Car handled like a Lotus. He thought about the river, his canoe trip with Francine. Would she behave this time?
They rose to a plateau and Laura gasped, startling him. “The car! It’s still following us. It’s them!”
He looked over at her and then checked his rearview mirror. Damn. Bright headlights were closing in on them. He gunned it. He’d always fantasized he was a good driver. The car’s engine throttled up, and with a roar of the pistons, he hightailed it out of there, speeding so fast across the prairie that the lights behind them grew smaller and smaller. As they rose up to the highest point on the road, he followed the sign to Fort Benton and dropped down toward the valley below.
He turned onto a dirt road behind a barn, rolled down his window, and listened. The whine of an engine grew behind them, then disappeared. Good. Good and gone. “Pesky little bastards.”
“Nothing like revenge to focus the mind. Those guys are both crazy and mean.”
“You ever been to Fort Benton? To the Union Hotel?” Campbell broke the silence a few minutes later as they pulled into a parking lot in front of a three-story brick building. “This is as far as I’m going tonight. You’re on your own, now.”
Laura toyed with the buttons of his jacket that she still wore. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just come up with you. Call my best friend—or something. I won’t be a bother. Just ’til I get back on my feet.”
“Like I said, I’m tired,” Campbell said. “And I have company. My daughter’s with me. Sorry.”
“Campbell, but look, it’s ten at night, I have no money, no shoes, no clothes, for Chrissakes. Can you get me a room? I’ll pay you back.”
“I can see the police station from here.”
“They’ll put me in a cell. Don’t you have a pair of pants I can borrow? A shirt? Something? Stella—she’s cool, no questions—she’ll wire money to the hotel right away. Otherwise I’ll be out on the street with those assholes still hunting for me.”
He climbed out of his car.
“Please?”
Against his better judgment, Campbell, his heart feeling clumsy, put his arm around Laura and opened the lobby doors into blinding light. He blinked. Someone was coming out the doorway. He stepped aside.
“Dad?” Francine spat. “That you?”
Laura noticed her ragged pair of blue jeans, a blue pajama top with horses on it, flip-flops, short bangs, ponytail, and clouded, hurt face.
Francine looked at her dad and at the girl beside him. She yanked the rubber band from her ponytail with a snap. “Well, that hurt.”
Campbell froze. “Francine, I can explain everything.”
“Some camp stove you found. Can she cook too?”
“Hey, it’s not like that at all, Francine,” he muttered, trying to gain ground. “There were these bad guys . . . and . . .” The more he said the worse he felt.
“You’re disgusting, Dad,” she said, then turned around and marched back inside.
CHAPTER THREE
Saturday, 10:00 p.m.
Union Hotel, Fort Benton
LAURA, CAMPBELL, AND BETHANN
“Now, wait a minute. Francine!” Campbell called, but she was already halfway up the stairs.
“Damn it all. Come back here!” He placed his hand on the banister.
“Campbell, before you go,” Laura said. “All I need is a room and then I’ll get out of your way.”
Without answering, Campbell rushed up the stairs. Laura ran up to the landing after him and heard pounding as he rose to the third floor abov
e. She turned and came back down. With her skimpy clothes on, at least there was no one in the lobby except for the clerk. She wrapped Campbell’s jacket tighter around her.
“Miss?” Laura turned to the girl behind the reception counter. “Could you do me a favor?”
The girl held one hand over her mouth and the other hand just above the bell. She was wearing a crisp white shirt and black vest, two sizes too big.
“I don’t normally dress like this, Miss,” Laura said. “It was a costume party. I got mugged.”
“My manager, Mr. Martins, will not be pleased.”
“I just need a room. I’m freezing.”
“I could lose my job.” The girl held a finger over the buttons of the telephone.
“Just for tonight,” Laura said. “It’s late and I’m tired.”
“My mom told me not to take this job,” the clerk said. “It’ll be okay, Ma, there’s just nice people checking into the hotel.” The girl narrowed her eyes. “I don’t want to lie to my mom.”
“Honey,” Laura peered at her nametag. “Beth Ann. That’s a nice name.”
“You have one minute to get out of the hotel.”
“I have a nice mother too,” Laura chattered. “Mine’s in a rest home. I don’t want to lie to her either. Come on, I’ve got to stay inside. She says, ‘Laura honey, you have to be careful. Don’t you want to be safe, honey? Don’t you want to feel protected?’”
“That’s what my boyfriend said, and look what he did to me.” Beth Ann pulled up her white sleeve and showed off a blue-purple bruise the shape of a heart. “And he still goes out with my best friend.”
“I’m so sorry, Beth Ann.” Laura pulled out one manicured finger and touched the bruise. “That must hurt.” She paused. “How old are you?”
Beth Ann sniffed.
Laura heard footsteps behind her. Campbell?
“It’s a long story,” Beth Ann replied.
“Can I borrow some clothes while I listen?” Laura said. “My legs are freezing. Some guys tried to take advantage of me too.” Her bare feet were numb.
“I only have a minute,” Campbell squeezed around Laura’s place at the counter. “Miss, please?”
“Beth Ann,” Laura said. “Her name is Beth Ann. I’ve got this, Campbell.”
“You’ll need my credit card, regardless,” Campbell said, reaching for his wallet.
“Was it him?” Beth Ann asked Laura. She eyed Campbell.
“Miss?” He held out his card.
“No, it wasn’t him,” Laura whispered to Beth Ann. “He’s been great.”
Beth Ann smiled and pulled her sleeve back down. “We have a room for you, ma’am. A discount.” She pressed Campbell’s card back into his hand.
Campbell looked from Laura to Beth Ann and back again. “Everything okay?”
“How’s it going upstairs?” Laura asked.
“Not so good.”
Beth Ann disappeared and returned a minute later with a paper bag. “All I have are beach clothes. And a little bag of cosmetics, and sunscreen. It gets, like, 110 degrees out here in the summer in July.”
“Thanks.” Laura took the bag. “You’re a doll.” She came around the counter to the side, gave Beth Ann a big hug, and held a thumbs-up for Campbell. “See you in the morning, then?”
“Breakfast’s at seven,” Beth Ann said, putting her earbuds back in her ears.
Laura took the bag and the keys. At last. She was beat.
“Laura,” Campbell said, following her and stopping at the landing. “It’s not easy for me to ask a favor.” He stayed silent a moment.
“I’ve been tired so long I can’t think straight,” Laura said.
He tossed his own room keys and caught them. “All I’m asking . . . could you talk to Francine?”
“I’m not so good with kids.”
“Better you than me. Room three-oh-one.”
“She doesn’t know me,” Laura said.
“Could you try? I’ll be downstairs, here in the bar. She’s fourteen, just been a bit moody, doesn’t talk to me easily about, you know, girl stuff.” Anything for that matter, Campbell thought.
“Girl stuff? I don’t know. I’m a pole dancer, not a mom.”
He frowned. “Parents and kids, you know . . . this age. It’s tough. If you told her what happened, I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“I’ll tell her you’re a hell of a driver, will that help?”
“Maybe.”
“Probably knows more than you think,” Laura said, remembering when she’d been fourteen. The year Dad had left. That had been fun.
Campbell paused. “And before you do, could you put on some clothes?”
Laura laughed. “Sure.”
She climbed the two flights of stairs to her room. She’d be gone in the morning as soon as the money came in. She’d call Stella or, what the hell, wire the bank. But then what? Cash a check, but where? She had to remind herself to get up early.
Freshly showered and wearing Beth Ann’s sleeveless jersey top and too small shorty-shorts, she went upstairs to the third floor.
“Francine? It’s Laura . . . you know, that woman who came in downstairs with your dad?” Laura paused. She heard footsteps. “Could you open the door?”
Someone shuffled on the other side.
“I’m busy,” Francine said.
“Your dad . . .” Laura said, then realized that she was talking too loud. “I just need a second.”
Francine opened the door, keeping the chain on. “Oh, so you do wear clothes.”
“It’s a long story.”
“It always is,” Francine said, looking Laura up and down. “Every year they get younger and younger.”
“He saved my life,” Laura said.
“Of course he did.” Francine squinted. “Now, please leave me and my dad alone.” She shut the door.
Laura swore she saw tears in Francine’s eyes but couldn’t be sure. She was staring at a heavy wooden door while people up and down the hall opened theirs. She held her head high, hung Campbell’s jacket on the doorknob.
Back inside her room she called Stella, asked her to ship some clothes and cash to the hotel, and fell asleep as soon as she lay down. Five minutes later she heard pounding on her door.
Hell’s bells. She turned over and tried to get back to sleep.
The pounding continued.
“What the hell?” Laura staggered to the door and opened it a little bit. Someone was dressed in khaki pants and a light blue shirt. She focused on a face, an unshaved face, trying to remember. Oh, Campbell. “It’s late. I hung your jacket outside your door. Your daughter will talk to you in the morning.” And pigs would fly and her own father would come home and Mom was going to be all right. Sure.
“It’s already morning,” Campbell said. “I wanted to see if you were all right. Francine and I are about to take off.” He strode in and pulled aside thick brown curtains and looked out onto the river below. “Did you make your calls?”
Laura pulled the covers around herself and stood by the window. “Yeah, I should be all right,” she lied.
“Well. If you ever get to New York.” Campbell held out his card. “Pretty from here, don’t you think?”
“It’s water,” Laura replied.
“There’s more than water down there. There’s trees . . . and people on the patio having breakfast,” Campbell said. “I saw something in the parking lot. Something funny. I told Francine about it and she said lots of people drive red cars.”
“What kind of red car?” Laura asked.
“Francine wasn’t sure, so I went out to take a look,” Campbell said, standing back from the window. “Anyway, I gotta go. Thought you’d like to know.”
“Ford?” she asked.
“Those two guys look a little out of place, don’t you think?” From this vantage point even Laura could recognize Bart and his mustache.
“Why would they follow you all the way here?”
“Campbell, ever
heard the expression ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’?”
“Of course.”
“It’s worse with men,” Laura said, feeling her mouth go dry. “Is there another exit out of this hotel?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Sunday, 9:00 a.m.
Fort Benton
LAURA, CAMPBELL, AND E.B.
Laura followed Campbell down a back staircase and into the scullery of the hotel. The dishwashers were hard at work stacking dishes into racks and shoving them into dishwashing machines where steam rose all around them. Beyond, waiters rushed in and out of the swinging doors. Laura hurried, going as fast as she could, hoping to avoid hitting their trays of tomato juice and eggs over easy.
“Those guys will never catch you where we’re going,” Campbell said as they ran out a back door into a bright, sunshiny day.
Laura blinked against the brightness and tried to catch up with him. He shot down a path underneath broad elms that lined the river where flyers about a revival meeting flapped in the breeze. In Beth Ann’s flip-flops she could barely keep up with him.
“Hey, slow down a sec!” she yelled.
“Can’t. People are waiting for me.” He took off.
She finally caught up with him at the far end of town where he was standing at the top of a ramp beside a group of twenty-year-old girls loading canoes. Two more people— Francine, at the river’s edge, was packing a cooler, and a man, twenty feet away, was carrying a canoe over his head.
“Hello, Campbell!” the girls said in unison.
“Good morning, everybody,” he cried. “Ready for our trip? Everyone have everything they need? Water, life jackets, lunch?”
“Campbell,” Laura touched his arm. “A canoe trip? That’s no place for me.”
“Can’t talk now, Laura.”
One of the girls came up and whispered to him.
“Sorry, Nia, you can’t bring a suitcase on a canoe. Have you got a duffel bag? Otherwise, E.B. will get one for you.”
Nia, a slight Asian woman, frowned and disappeared.
Laura felt out of place. She nudged Campbell. “I can’t go . . . canoeing . . . not today, not any day.” To her, the boats looked like toys. She dug her hands into the pockets of Beth Ann’s shorty-shorts. “Please, I need transportation, a car, a plane, you understand.”
Montana Rhapsody Page 2
