Beth had the cabbie take us back to Sam's hotel. With me out of the way, she would be able to move faster.
Beth: Sure he's here? Deb: He's here. Hey, it's been real. Beth: It'll be more real if Billy's on the move. Keep in touch. I'll wait here. Deb: Don't worry about me. You see that Suburban, you get out of here. Beth: I'm not ready to see the ancestors yet. Hold on...let her get inside. I hurried inside, resisting the urge to stop and crane my neck looking down the street. If I did that, I would stand there like an idiot right until Billy parked the Suburban on my sternum. Clerk: Can I help you? Deb: Yes. I need to know which room Deputy Marshal Sam Gerard is in. Is it the same one as earlier this afternoon? Clerk: No. That room sustained some damage and we need to get a carpenter in here to repair the doorframe and the lock. We've had to move the Deputy to another room. Do you know him at all? Deb: I came in with him. What's his room number, I need to check in with him. Could you call up there and let him know I'm on the way? I'm in kind of a hurry and he has my baggage. Clerk: Are you all right, Ma'am? Out of the corner of my eye I saw the cab pull into traffic. I glanced more fully. Beth was pounding the back of the seat, urging the driver forward like a jockey. Things were starting to look a little tight. Deb: Listen, somebody's going to be coming in here looking for me and it won't do you any good to play innocent because he's going to know better. He's going to be very obnoxious... I heard automobile horns. He was coming in like the 101st Airborne. Deb: ...and very loud, also extremely pissed off. Please, tell me where Marshal Gerard is, he's the only thing between me and pain. Tires were squealing. The clerk gave me the room number. As I tore across the lobby to the elevators, I heard him talking to Sam. The trip upstairs seemed to take a couple of eternities. I had to make a conscious effort to stand still. I wasn't going to feel capable of further mayhem until I was safely back under Sam's wing. Sam was waiting at his door... no shirt, barefoot, jeans yanked on hastily. His dark hair, usually neatly combed, was every which way and his eyes were fuzzy with sleep. I almost regretted leading the boy such a merry chase. Almost. Deb: Beth, why do you miss these things? He might have looked drowsy and half out of it, but his mind was sharp as ever. He reached out, grabbed hold of my arm and yanked hugely. I tripped on my own big feet, fell through the door and would have kept on going except that Sam caught me on the way down. One of my feet hit the self locking door and kicked it shut, as I was enjoying the fleeting sensation of being briefly cradled against the legendary Gerard ribcage. With Sam's assistance I righted myself and took a deep breath. Sam: Where've you been? What's this shit, Strannix is looking for you? What'd you do? Deb: Ssh, he might here. He's on the warpath. Sam: The hell with him, I'M on the warpath! Talk to me! Where's that key? Deb: I don't have it anymore. Sam: Don't HAVE it anymore! I oughta run you in! Deb: Gee, Marshal Dillon, I'm scared to death. Sam: All right, all right. Why don't you have the key anymore? Deb: I gave it back to Billy. Well, actually Beth gave it back, but Billy's got it now. Sam: What the hell did you do that for? Deb: Ssssh! Sam: Don't shush me! Answer the question, why did you give Strannix the key back? I have a habit of skating around things forever without actually addressing them. Deb: Well, geez, it was his key, wasn't it. And it seemed like the thing to do, as long as I was out at the house. Sam: At the house! Did you get an address? I had reason to believe I was as close to Sam's A-list as it was possible to be. His face, as I could see in the dim light from the bathroom - Sam had turned it on before I came up - was lit up like a Christmas tree. Too bad I had to shoot it in the butt. Deb: How could I? It was dark and he pulled straight into the garage. The light went out, the brows lowered, the voice dropped a notch. Same old same old. Sam: So you went in his car? Deb: If that's what you want to call the thing, yes. Sam: Did you get a license plate? I could see where he was going with this. Hadn't I grown up watching Adam-12, Dragnet and Car 54 Where Are You? If I gave him a license plate he could call the Texas DMV and get a corresponding address. It would doubtless be a post office box, but it was worth a thought. Deb: Absolutely not. I left it on the car. Sam: I'm not having any fun here. Deb: Point taken. Sam: Did you see any mail lying around? Deb: What do you take me for, some kind of snoop? Sam: Then what the hell were you doing there?! Deb: Snooping around the basement. Sam: Shitshitshit! Deb: Cripes, Gerard, you're gonna pop a bolt. Somewhere close by a door crashed open. Footsteps pounded past. Billy: Gerard! I know you've got her, where the hell is she? My expression, and my unsteady breathing must have told Sam I was about to lose it. Moving swiftly and silently, he encircled my waist with an arm and pressed my face against his shoulder. Sam: Not a sound. Deb: Mphph! Billy: Give 'er up, Gerard! I know where you live, girl! I started quivering. Sam tightened his grip. Sam: Relax. They'll call security and throw his ass out. You're safe. Amen! Billy: Dammit!!! By way of response I sputtered helplessly. Billy was completely over the side. I sincerely hoped and prayed that Beth was well on her way to wherever - and that she had quick access to a bomb shelter. Sam held me until we heard the door slam shut like a cannonshot. I sagged away from him, walked unsteadily to the side of Sam's bed, and collapsed. It was all I could do not to burst into nervous laughter. Sam: Now, what was in that basement? Deb: Nothing you'd want, Sam. I was going to say very little about the computers, and nothing about the guns. Sam: Will you let me be the judge of that! What was in that basement? Deb: Bunch of computers. I don't know, maybe he's running a pyramid scheme or something. Maybe he fixes the dumb things. Sam: Then why were you in such a rush to get down there? Deb: Because he didn't want us down there, that's why. Sam: What? Deb: Billy didn't want anybody down there, and he didn't want anybody to know what he had. It was a state secret. He was dead set against us going down there, so the minute the opportunity presented itself, we went in the basement. Simple. Sam: That's all? Deb: What else would we need? Sam: I think you're lying. Deb: Isn't that what they pay you to think? Sam sighed hugely, folded his big arms across his chest, stared down at me like I was a bug. Sam: Despite everything, I like you. I want you to know that, just in case I lose my temper. Now, what would make Strannix lock that basement up if all he was doing was running a legitimate business? Deb: You're the investigator. If I had a few thousand dollars worth of equipment, especially if it was someone else's, I'd protect it. Sam: If I remember right, Strannix knew nothing about computers. Deb: People change. Sam: You need to remember that I like you. Deb: Sorry. But is he really such a big threat? Sam: Could be. Now...since you're playing your usual games and I'm tired, I think it's time for bed. Deb: Works for me. Where's my room? Sam: No room. I was going to use the first room we were in today and this was your room until your little buddy put his foot through the door and tore off the lock. You can use the empty bed. Go change. I won't look. I did as Sam suggested, changing into my grungy old nightie in the bathroom. My day started to catch up with me as I got closer to the empty bed. I didn't think I'd have any trouble dropping off, Sam or no Sam. Sam: Where's Beth? Deb: Getting out of Dodge. Sam: That so? Why? Deb: It's what you do when you cross Billy. Sam: You people act like he's something to worry about. Deb: Let's call it healthy respect. Sam: Why? Deb: You're a regular questionbox. If you don't respect Billy, you don't stay healthy. Good enough? Sam: Wuss wouldn't hurt either of you two. He's all hot air. Deb: I respect your opinion, Sam, but I'm not willing to trust it. You heard him. Sam: He gives you any trouble, you know where to find me. Deb: He doesn't give me trouble, exactly, he just...rattles my cage is all. Sam: Then why do you defend him? How could I answer that? There were so many reasons, all of them compelling and none of them I wanted to discuss, in case it got back to Billy. On the other hand, Sam wasn't going to leave me alone until I gave him something good. Not without reason was Sam called 'the cop who won't stop.' Deb: Some women like the good boys, Sam, and some women like the bad boys. I don't know what else to say. Sam: Yet you're afraid of him? Deb: Hell no! I spend all my spare time baiting him. Afraid my foot. I try to make him mad, just to hear him yell. Sam must have figured out who I was scared of. With a sudden move he had rolled out of his bed and was looming over me, one hand on either side of my head. I cringed into the pillows, even though the mattress was one of those that had about as much give as the IRS. I felt my brain lock up. Sam: Now. Pay attention. Your Uncle Sam isn't going to say this twice. Ready? Deb: Pay attention. Uncle Sam's talking. Only going to tell me once. Sam: Very good. This is about your friend, Billy. I want to know as much as possible about Billy. You're going to help me. Aren't you? Deb: Help Sam. Yes. Sam: That's right. If you find anything of Billy's, hear anything from Billy or see anything about Billy, I want to know. If you see Billy, I want to know. What are you going to do? Deb: Tell Sam. I felt like an idiot. Sam: Yes. Tell me. You get right on that little computer of yours and you send me a note. If you know something, tell me. If you have something, tell me. I will come and get it. Understand? Deb: Yes. E-mail Sam. Sam: You're catching on. What you're not going to do is play games, tease, evade or send cute little notes. If you do any of those things I will come to your house and I will be mad. Is that what we want? Deb: No. No mad Sam. Sam: Bright bulb. School's almost out, stay with me. If it's really important, call. I will give you a card. Call the number on it. Ask for me. They will find me. Don't wait. Don't jerk my chain. Got it? Deb: Yes. Tell Sam. Help Sam. Sam good. Billy bad. Yes. Sam: That's right. Go to sleep. We fly back tomorrow afternoon. And don't worry, your employer's been told. TO BE CONTINUED...
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