She had been driving all day. The voices in her head had calmed. The rain was pouring down more than ever. She couldn't see a thing. Yet another fear was growing inside her; the last thing she needed now was an accident. She would surely lose her head and confess to the theft then.
That patrolman had frightened her so much. She'd wondered if he was following her. Assuredly not! He would not follow her this far away.
What was she going to tell Sam, though? How could she possibly explain the forty thousand dollars she suddenly has? After the despair and hopelessness she had showed him only yesterday afternoon in that stuffy hotel room. She couldn't tell him she stole them, naturally. He's too good a soul to accept stolen money. Had she come into some inheritance? Unlikely that any distant relative would leave that big a sum for her. And he knew of most of her relatives; though he never met them. She had told him a lot. She won the lottery! That's it! But was it likely for them to present the money in cash? She'd come up with an explanation for that!
But this was her best shot! And what of Lowery and Cassidy? Well, she can always change her name and her hair color. Perhaps dye it brown, and let it grow longer. Besides, who would think to search in Fairvale? Only Lila knew, but she trusted her sister never to blurt it out. She'd have to explain things to her, though. Yes, she'd have to. But the worst part was over.
She saw a faint light in the distance, and getting nearer to it, she saw it was a sign. Very simple; not much design done on it. All it read was 'Bates Motel'. And underneath it, the 'vacancy' light was on, as if desperately urging a living soul to come closer.
The motel was quite small and simple (a little shabby, to be honest). There were no more than twelve cabins and a manager's office. She hastily got out of her car and into the office. Empty.
Behind the motel, a large Gothic Victorian mansion, quite intimidating to look at, came into focus. A long steep staircase led to it. She thought it looked right out of a horror film and nearly smirked.
It looked almost run down and uninhabited, but the glowing light in one of the upper rooms proved otherwise. She then saw a figure in that window. A tall woman, wearing some sort of gown, hair neatly arranged in a bun. She had been pacing in the room.
The atmosphere of this place was not at all inviting, yet she had no choice. She started honking her car horn, waiting for someone to hear her in this wretched rain. Marion Crane has arrived at the Bates Motel.