"Well, are there any hotels or stuff up there?" I asked, trying to remember if I'd ever been to that part of town.
"A few. We have calls into them," Kevin said, shaking his head.
"What was the hotel that … last time … you know, the last time all this happened, what hotel was that?" I asked, the question appearing in my mind even as I spoke it aloud. Kevin shrugged.
"Well, it was the Indian Lodge Motel, and that's up in that area, but we've already sent them the ID and it's really unlikely that they'd go back to the same … "
"Is it? How unlikely is it? I mean, you said it's close to where Boon last was," I said, my general malaise and depression making way for frustration. It was the only lead they had, why wouldn't they want to take it?
"Yeah, but … "
"Can't we just check it out? Just go talk to the desk? I mean, maybe their fax machine is broken or something," I said, pushing.
"We have patrols up in that neighborhood, I could … "
"No, can't we just go? Kevin, please, I just … I need to try … I can't just sit here!" My voice rose to a cry as I spoke, and I realized the truth behind my own words. I didn't know if my idea was worth anything, and there really wasn't any use in going to the motel ourselves if they already had people canvassing that area, but I didn't want to sit in that room. And I didn't want to sit in Alicia's room, or Becky's room. I wanted to do something, even if that something wound up being nothing.
Kevin studied me, his face sympathetic. He nodded and stood up.
"I'll see what I can do," he said, stepping out of the room once more. I hated being left alone in that room. It seemed that something inside me was waking up: something angry, and motivated, and passionate. I wasn't just going to sit in that room and wait. I got up and went into the hallway, looking in both directions for where Kevin might have gone. I heard a low conversation coming from a door on my left and tiptoed up to it.
"She just wants to do something, I say we take her for a ride. I mean, if anything happens, I'll call for backup ASAP, but probably nothing will happen. But just for her peace of mind, you know? Let her think she's helping, or whatever," Kevin's voice came. Condescending prick, I thought, surprising myself once more with the depths of my anger at that moment.
"I don't think it's a good idea. I mean, I could just send one of the units out, she never has to be in danger," came another voice, presumably Kevin's superior.
"Well, why would they go to the same place twice, really? I just think … well, we owe it to Sheriff to try and take care of his daughter."
"And you think taking her to a likely hostage situation is taking care of her?"
"It's better than keeping her in an interrogation room, or letting her just go home and probably wind up going there herself, anyway."
There was a pause in the conversation, then a sigh.
"Okay, okay, fine. Take her. Quickly, though, in and out. And if anything seems off, don't even pull in, just call for backup. I'll let everyone out in that section know to be on the alert. There should be a team checking out that place in a half hour or so, anyway."
"Thanks, boss. I just want the kid to feel better," Kevin said, his voice growing nearer. He appeared around the corner of the doorway and nearly jumped a foot into the air when he saw me waiting.
"Shall we?" I said, turning on my heel. I don't know exactly when I went from being a ragdoll who could barely hold her own head to this person who felt like she could climb Mt. Everest if it meant getting her mother back, but I knew I didn't want that feeling to leave. I wanted to take advantage of it while I could.
The drive to the Indian Lodge Motel was about ten minutes, mostly spent in silence, listening to the crackle of the radio and the reports coming in from base and from other squad cars. I thought, along the way, about whether or not Boon was there, too. I
f he knew where his dad was staying and he'd been in this neighborhood when he sent the text … I could only hope. Or, not hope. I didn't know what I wanted to be true. Well, I knew what I really wanted: I wanted for Boon to have talked his dad into surrender, for my mom to be sipping tea in the lobby by the time we got there.
But the reality, I knew, was much more complicated. What if Boon had agreed to leave with his father? What if Boon had fought his dad? What if he didn't really know where his dad was, and we were, in fact, no closer to answers than before? We pulled into the parking lot; it was almost deserted. The motel itself looked like it could be blown over with a single puff from the big bad wolf.
"Stay here," Kevin said, unbuckling and opening his door.
"No way," I said, fairly leaping out of the car and striding towards the door. I could tell Kevin was already regretting the fight he'd put up to take me there. He'd probably imagined he was taking me for a little cruise, that I'd just sit in the car and wait for him to come out empty-handed. Tough luck, Kev.
The night clerk was a bearded old man with a wheezing way of breathing. He smelled like lozenges. I didn't care. If he was going to be able to help us, I'd consider him Jesus. Kevin approached behind me, pulling the police sketch from his pocket.
"Did you get a fax today looking for this guy?" I asked as he slid it onto the counter. The old man shook his head.
"Fax machine is broken," he said, and I looked back at Kevin pointedly. The old man studied the picture for a few minutes. "Actually, yeah, he looks real familiar. I checked him and his buddies into room 127 a few hours ago. Maybe around 7 or 8." He smiled, clearly thrilled to have a chance to help.
I can only explain my actions after that as the actions of someone gone crazy with grief. I mean, looking back, I really can't tell you why I thought any of the things I did were good ideas. I guess I knew they weren't, but I wasn't really thinking of anything. I was like a wire coil, all tensed up, suddenly sprung. I looked at Kevin once, quickly, then bolted.
"Wait, Samantha, stop!" he called out, trying to grab me as I raced past him.
"No, no, fuck you! That's my fucking mother in there!" I cried, running out the door. Kevin started after me, but I was already halfway around the motel, room numbers whizzing past. Finally, I arrived at 127; Kevin was hot on my heels as I began to bang on the door, crying out.
"Mom! Mom, it's me! It's Samantha! Let her go, you motherfucker! You let her fucking go right now!"
" … requesting backup … suspect in … hostage … backup … .now … " Kevin was speaking into his walkie-talkie as he ran towards me; I turned to look at him, body shaking, mind a total wreck. And then he disappeared. Or, more accurately, I disappeared. Into the room. The door inched open and I felt strong hands pulling me inside, then heard the door slam shut. It was dark in the room, the only light coming from one lamp on the table. As my eyes adjusted and my heart raced, I realized I'd made one last, awful mistake.
"Welcome to the party, sweetheart," came a voice behind me, right as two big, sweaty hands closed around my upper arms.
29
A few minutes later, I was tied to a chair, a gag in my mouth. My mother, alive and awake, was across from me, her eyes bright with fear. I hadn't had time to scream or even say anything before Tank had thrown me onto the chair and the other man in the room, who I'd never seen before, had slipped the gag into my mouth. Boon was lying on the bed, on his stomach, his face turned away. He could have been dead. I thought he probably was.
My first feeling upon seeing my mother was relief that she was even still alive, and relatively unharmed. My second feeling, much stronger, was panic. There aren't enough words in the English language to explain just how afraid I was. If I'd screwed up everything to that point, I'd really done it by throwing myself head-first into Tank's all-too-willing hands.
The knot binding my wrists was tight, and my shoulders were aching within the first minute. I stared at Tank, who'd been mostly silent after those first words. He was bigger than I remembered, looked meaner. His face was etched with scars, his arms huge and dirty and covered in tattoos. He had Boon's clear blue eyes, though, and that was, perhaps, the scariest part of it all.
"Well, this is a hell of a nice surprise, pumpkin," Tank said, leaning down in front of me and taking my chin in his hands. I closed my eyes, revolted by his face, his hot breath, the feel of his skin on mine. "This is really, really, just … man, I couldn't ask for anything better."
He released me then, moving over to my mother. I opened my eyes again but wished I hadn't; he was stroking her hair, his massive hands pulling roughly at her soft hair. I wanted to kill him for laying a single hand on her.