Rock and a Hard Place (25 page)

“
Yeah, I’ll do
that.”

“
And you might want to call
ahead.”

“
What for? I want to
surprise her.”

“
Just in case, man. What if
it isn’t her.”

“
It’s her.” With that Peter
left to find Roger, but couldn’t resist a whoop and a punch of his
fist in the air.

Chapter 23

The next day, after flying into Atlanta,
Peter and Roger drove to the tiny town of Pebble Creek. He wanted
to take the trip alone, but his mother wouldn’t allow it. He’d made
a lot of head way in winning more freedom from his family, but this
time Mom wouldn’t budge. ‘You are not traipsing across the country
by yourself. Either take Roger, or wait to see her at Red
Rocks.’

So Roger it was.

He decided to call ahead after all, but
couldn’t find a listing for Jill Munroe or Libby Sawyer. Even so,
he would not be deterred. They drove down the quiet streets of the
small town. Libby was here, he felt it.

“
Are you going to keep
driving up and down the main drag or are we going to stop and ask
some one?” Roger asked.

“
I don’t know. I thought
this would be easier, and that I’d just bump into her.”

“
We could call the local
radio station and tell them Peter Jamieson’s here. That should
bring her out, but I don’t think this town even has a radio
station. How about the police station? They ought to know everyone
in town.”

“No, Libby ran away. She doesn’t need the
police in her business.” Peter pushed a hand through his hair and
thought about how to find her. Knock door to door?

“
In most small towns you go
to the barbershop or the local coffee shop if you want to know
something,” Roger said.

“
I hardly think she’s a
regular at the barbershop. Let’s try for a coffee shop.” He drove
slowly and searched for a restaurant. A couple blocks farther,
where the road split, sat a quaint little restaurant, Fork in the
Road. He and Roger shared a grin. This felt right.

Peter pulled into a parking spot. “Do you
mind waiting here? I’d like to do this myself.”

“
No problem, go ahead.”
Roger leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, tired from their
early morning flight.

Peter stepped out of the car and approached
the front door of the restaurant. He combed his fingers through his
hair to tidy it and smoothed down his t-shirt. What if she was
inside having lunch? She could be. A large wooden fork served as
the handle for the front door. He took a deep breath, exhaled and
entered.

Inside, the café looked like a throw back to
the fifties. A long counter and stools faced the kitchen. Booths
with faded red seats occupied each wall. Curtains decorated with
tiny cherries covered the windows.

The place was busy for such a small town. A
heavy set older woman bustled by, her arms loaded down with plates.
“Grab a seat anywhere you want.”

Peter wandered to the counter and sat on a
stool. In front of him nested a napkin dispenser, ketchup and
mustard bottles and several menus in plastic sleeves. He gazed
around the room, unsure where to begin. Should he start asking
strangers if they knew Libby? Or Jill Munroe?

The waitress returned. “Do you know what you
want, hon?” Her name tag read Penny.

“
Uh, no.” He stuttered.
“Actually I wanted to ask you a question.”

“
I’ll be right with you.”
Penny grabbed five plates from the kitchen counter and stacked them
up her arm. With the other hand she grabbed a coffee pot and
disappeared.

Peter spun on his stool and watched her
deliver the food to a family on the other side of the restaurant
and then top off coffees. At the opposite end of the counter, he
noticed an older gentleman reading a newspaper. Penny rushed
past.

“
Hold on one more sec,” she
said. “Jerrold, you ready for a refill?” The man with the newspaper
held up his cup.

“
You’re running around like
a chicken with her head cut off today,” the man
commented.

“
Short handed for the next
few days.” Penny returned the pot to the burner and approached
Peter. “Alright, what’ll you have?”

His hands began to sweat. Peter couldn’t
believe how nervous he was. Talking to strangers never rattled him,
but the thought of seeing Libby again made him jumpy. “I’m looking
for a friend of mine. I think she lives here, but I don’t know
where.”

The woman tidied the counter as he
spoke.

“
Her name is Jill Munroe.”
He held his breath.

The woman stopped and looked at him. “You’re
looking for Jill?” Her eyes changed. Was she annoyed he wasn’t
placing an order? Penny exchanged looks with the man at the end of
the counter. He arched an eyebrow.

“
Do you know her?” He tried
to keep the desperation out of his voice.

“
Sure, I know Jill,” she
hesitated. “But she’s off today.”

“
Yes!” Peter slapped his
hands on the counter. He struck gold. She worked here.

Penny watched him, wide eyed. “How do you
know Jill?”

“
I met her in Wisconsin,
almost a year ago. We used to date.”

Penny nodded slowly, and glanced again at
the man with the newspaper.

“
Can you tell me where she
lives?” Peter looked from one to the other and back again. The man
nodded his head at Penny.

“
Sure thing. She lives at
the Twilight Motel on the west edge of town. Works in the office
most afternoons . . .”

“
Thank you so much!” He
popped off his stool and headed for the door. “I’ve gotta go see
her. I can’t thank you enough.” He waved at Penny as he left, ran
to the car and hopped in.

“
Roger she’s here. I mean
not here like at the restaurant, but she works here. Except she’s
off today. She lives at the motel and works there too.” Peter
started the car and sped off.

He drove west to the Twilight Motel, a cheap
roadside dive not fit for fleas. Roger gave him a cockeyed glance
as Peter pulled into the gravel drive and parked in front of a
blinking office sign. He couldn’t imagine Libby actually lived
here.

“
You sure you want to do
this?” Roger asked.

“
Are you kidding me?” Peter
left the rental car and entered the run down office. The trill of a
bell sounded as the door opened. Fortified with determination,
Peter crossed the cracked linoleum to the front counter.

“
Afternoon. Y’all looking
for a room?” A middle aged brassy blond asked. Her sickeningly
sweet perfume overpowered him.

Peter almost took a step back when he saw
her Tammy Faye Baker face complete with crusty mascara, and
overdrawn lips coated in pink gloss.

“
No, thank you. Actually
I’m looking for someone.”

“
Are you now? I’ve been
looking for someone too.” She leaned forward and revealed her ample
bosom squeezed into a tiny tank top more appropriate for a teenager
than a fifty-year-old woman.

Peter nearly laughed. He might need Roger’s
help after all. Heck, Roger might enjoy her. He offered his best
mannered smile. “Actually, it’s a friend of mine, who I believe
lives here. Her name is Jill.”

“
Oh.” The desk clerk stood
up. “She stays in number six, since the phone doesn’t work. Says
she has no one to call, but if I had a young man as sweet as you on
my tail, I’d sit by the phone all day waiting.” She batted her
oversized lashes; he wanted to run.

He eyed the door, his heart longing to be in
Room Six, but the flirty old woman prattled on.

“
DarLynn. That’s my
daughter-in-law, lets Jill stay here. She babysits the boys and
watches the office while DarLynn’s at night school. She’s gonna be
a hair stylist. Don’t know why she needs to do that when she’s got
the Twilight to run. This is my son Jimmy’s place,” she whispered
as if it were a big secret. “If it’s good enough for him it should
be good enough for her. Of course, Jimmy ain’t happy about her
schoolin’, but he’s still got two more months to serve at
county.”

Peter didn’t know how to stop her incessant
talking.

“
Ya know, it wasn’t really
his fault. If Gus Hatley wouldn’t have been hittin’ on DarLynn at
the tractor pull last year, Jimmy wouldn’t have borrowed his new
truck and drove it into Mud Lake. Now that sure was a mess; big
misunderstanding all around.”

“
Excuse me, ma’am,” Peter
interrupted for fear the woman would never stop. “I think I’ll go
down to number six and say hello.”

“
Of course. Look at me
jabberin’ away while you’re eager to see your friend. Oh and she’s
a pretty one too.”

Peter moved towards the door. He couldn’t
wait to see the look on Libby’s face when she saw him.

“
Oh, she ain’t
there.”

“
She’s not?” He nearly
croaked in disbelief.

“
Nope. She and DarLynn left
in Jimmy’s old Chevy early this morning; somethin’ about a prize in
Colorado. I think she won the lottery, but I don’t know why she had
to go way cross the country to turn in her ticket.”

What was she talking about now? “Is she
going to Red Rocks by chance?”

“
That’s right, now how’d
you know that with her not having a phone?”

“
Just a good
guess.”

“
Well, I’ve got a secret
about her that I bet you’ll never guess.” She leaned forward again.
Peter focused on a velvet painting of kittens on the wall, instead
of her showy cleavage, but he needed to hear what she had to
say.

“
Her name isn’t really
Jill,” she whispered, then paused for effect.

“
No way?” Peter said,
matching her quiet tone.

“
It’s Livvy.” She’s been
hiding out, but now with the lottery thing, she has to use her real
name again.”

He fought back a smile. “I never would have
guessed that.” He needed to prevent her from starting another long
diatribe. At this rate Roger would come looking for him. “Well, I
should be heading out.” He walked to the door.

“
Wanna see her
room?”

Peter slowly turned back to her, a huge
smile on his face. “I’d like that very much.” He would see where
she lived, see her stuff and smell her presence.

She snatched up a key and led him outside.
“By the way, my name’s Beatrice, but my friends call me Bea.” She
stood a little too close for Peter’s comfort.

He held his breath to avoid inhaling her
odious perfume. He gave a pained look at Roger and waved him over.
The large man hesitated, but joined them.

“
Bea, I’d like you to meet
a very good friend of mine. This is Roger.”

“
Why what a pleasure, two
good lookin’ men in one day. You must be the older brother.” She
held out her hand for Roger to kiss. He nearly choked, but shook
her hand with claw length painted finger nails.

“
Bea is going to show us
Jill’s room. Jill’s not here right now. She’s on her way to
Colorado,” Peter recited to Roger.

His friend nodded, understanding lit his
eyes.

“
She goin to turn in her
lottery ticket,” Bea chimed in.

Roger turned a confused look on Peter.

“
That’s right.” Peter
grinned.

They followed Bea past a handful of rooms
and paused at room six where she inserted the key. Bea turned to
them. “You won’t tattle on me will you?” Her eyes focused on Roger.
“I wouldn’t want to get in trouble with DarLynn. She’d never let me
watch the place again and I love meeting new people.”

“
Not a word,” Roger
promised. “It’ll be our little secret.” He placed one hand on the
door frame and leaned close to Bea. Peter’s pulse quickened as he
pushed the door open and stepped into Libby’s room.

So this is where she’s been. He walked
through the small room. He ran his fingers over the faded
bedspread. On the dresser sat a stack of books. School books.
Calculus, World History, Psychology. Pride filled his heart. Libby
stayed in school. He knew she was smart, but to live in this crummy
motel, waitress and still go to school amazed him.

Roger blocked the doorway while Bea
performed her best moves. Also on the dresser lay a sweat shirt. He
picked it up and her familiar scent hit him. He held the sweat
shirt close and wondered if she’d miss it. He opened the top drawer
and found her underwear along with some envelopes that appeared to
be legal documents. He didn’t feel comfortable touching them, so he
closed the drawer and sat on the bed.

His breath caught in his throat.

A framed picture on the nightstand faced the
bed. He recognized a young, carefree Libby her arms draped over a
younger girl who could only be her little sister, Sarah. Her
parents stood on each side of them. They were a beautiful family.
The weight of all Libby had been through struck him full force.
God, he wished she was here right now, but they’d be together again
soon.

Reluctantly he put the photo back in place.
He opened the top drawer and found pens, highlighters and pencils
on top of a drawing pad. He eased it out of the drawer and opened
the cover and found a pencil drawing of a little boy. He turned the
pages to discover dozens of drawings of everything from wildlife,
the Twilight Motel and little boys. But what gave him pause the
most were the drawings of himself. There were only a couple and
they were at the front of the pad. Had she moved on? Didn’t she
think about him anymore? That was stupid thinking. She was coming
to Red Rocks and the drawings didn’t reveal what her feelings were.
He slid it back into place.