Free Ticket to Nowhere Chapter 11
A Stark Mystery
As soon as the door shut behind me, I rushed to the minibar. Thankfully, it was fully stocked, but with those almost useless small bottles. I finished them all, even the weird sweet ones. Once I’d had something in my stomach, my brain began to work. I was in a pickle, actually, two different kinds and both were beginning to get hopelessly entangled with each other. I had to get back to basics.
Throughout my career, three things have always helped solve cases — booze and cigars (because everyone needs nourishment), hot babes (I’d once had a client, a self-help guru, who swore that only when he was properly relaxed, did he get great ideas) and some(thing/one) to kick.
I looked around the room for more booze, but my run of bad luck was continuing. So, first stop — bar. I quickly washed off the scent of stale Monkees, munchkin and Topeka, doused myself with some of the fancy cologne the hotel provided and trudged down to the bar.
The bartender was a small, very cheerful man, whose smile was so bright, I could feel my booze trying to hike up my throat. I peeled off another C, ordered a G (hold the T), and asked him to keep them coming.
A few drinks later, I was suitably energized and started looking around the bar. Immediately, I spotted the curvy Krystal sitting on a lounge seat. I grinned. The second item on my list. Maybe I could sweet talk her into going back to her room with me. I looked at my watch. We had another hour.
I walked over to Krystal and said, “The name’s Dusty. And you’re Krystal, right?”
She inclined her head and widened her eyes. “Oh! I know you. You wrote that book about the child whose nose kept growing. It was so sad.” She sighed, her chest wobbled and mesmerized, I nodded.
She continued, “Cancer is such a horrible thing, isn’t it? How did you manage to write it without it affecting you?”
Her eyes had widened so much, she could give serious competition to Jessica Rabbit. I played the dour card and gave an enigmatic smile. She sighed again.
I sat down next to her and said in a suitably gruff voice, “So, tell me about yourself.”
She smiled and fluttered her eyes. Damn if I’ve seen a real broad do that and holy shit, was it effective. I shifted a little. I might have to do some adjustments soon.
She talked animatedly, her whole body jiggled with every gesture. It was getting uncomfortably hot and I needed to push the pace. I inched closer and let my arm rest on the back of her seat. She, honest to God blushed and gave a tentative half-smile. I moved closer. She averted her eyes as if she were a teen on a date with her first crush.
I grabbed my drink and took another swig. As I was lowering it, she hit the glass and my precious G split on her. How she managed to do that, I still don’t know. But she began to wipe herself down, each wipe managing to pull down the neck of her dress a bit more.
Appearing flustered, she said, “I have to change, I think. I’m so sorry. And we were having such a nice chat, too!”
She got up, then hesitated. “Umm…” she said, one foot poised as if to run. Continuing my sardonic act, I raised an eyebrow. She blushed, again. Her hand crept to her lips, which she proceeded to lick nervously, yet thoroughly.
Oh! What an act! I had to do my part too, so I furrowed my eyebrows. She said, “Uh…I’m sorry to ask, but…but there’s this person who’s been bothering me and I’m afraid to go anywhere by myself because of him.” She held out her hands as if stop me doing something foolhardy and then said, “He hasn’t harmed me yet, but my agent says it’s only a matter of time.”
She hugged herself, widened her eyes even more and said in a halting whisper, “So, uh, could you, um, please take-me-to-my-room.”
The last few words came out in a rush, as if she’d never voiced such a request in her life. I looked at my watch. Fifteen minutes left before the conference started. Not enough time, but I could definitely grease the works. I nodded and got up.
She smiled shyly. As we stepped into the elevator, she looped her arm around mine and smiled at me. As the elevator zoomed up, her whole body pushed into me as she stared adoringly.
I shuddered inside — she was obviously willing to go to any lengths to find out what I was up to. But she didn’t know that I, Stark, wasn’t the type to fall for the damsel-in-distress…although I would happily take advantage of her act.
We stopped at the hundred and fortieth floor. The decor was markedly different from where my room was. I walked her to her room. She opened the door slightly and stood in the entrance, hesitating. Just as I was about to say I’d see her soon, she pulled me close and kissed me. My arms went around her as I kissed her back. We stepped into her room and the door closed behind us.
A few seconds later, I came up for air and stood shocked. My first impressions were beaten, subjugated and terrorized by the outpouring of pink that was the room. A strong floral scent added to the appalling decor. I could feel everything in me shrink from the horror of it all.
She pulled away from me and said, “I…uh…oh no! I’m making your dress dirty too. Let me change.”
She sprinted to the wardrobe and opened the door. The mirror on the inside of the door showed her opening a case. Her hand slipped in. She turned, inclined her head and looked at me. The smile she then gave was very different from the one she’d been giving me earlier. I took a step back. Maybe, I could rush to the door before she could do anything, maybe I could, I could…
