8:03AM
September 19, 2006
I had decided to hide behind one of the buildings as the police came and searched everything. I didn't even get a chance to see what had happened to the Patriot guy before I made an impromptu decision to head back to my car and drive away. It was after the police had spent almost an hour looking, though.
I drove for four hours straight after that, just running. I was getting the heck out of that town. I ended up getting out of that whole state; I was now in Texas again. Then I spent the next day or so just driving around, not exactly knowing where I was heading. I was trying to figure everything out, and I got so caught up in everything one day that I knew I needed home again; so I started heading for Oklahoma. Soon, I ended up in a little town named Pampa. It was near Borger, Texas, which was close to the border to Oklahoma. I was relieved to be heading back. I wanted to be in Stillwater on September 21st for Anna's birthday, so I was glad that I was going back home.
Now I decided to stop for breakfast at a Waffle House. I walked in and sat down on one of the barstools at the front. There was a couple sitting in each other's arms in a corner booth in the back. There were also two men at the other end of the bar, but they were older men who were just chatting amongst themselves. And that was about it. There was nobody behind the counter at first, so I just sat there with my backpack and, again, tried to figure this out. I had come up with three possibilities to how the patriots guy was at that motel with my tags.
The first conclusion was that he had figured me out and was trying to track me down to get me off of his trail. The second was that he coincidently was in the same motel as me and was just a thief who didn't know who I was at first. But that thought sounded stupid because he had chased me after I left. And my third possibility was that he was after me in the first place and used Anna to get me to want to follow him out of the security of my home state. But I hated the thought of that being true, so I was trying really hard to push it aside.
I suddenly saw a man appear behind the counter. He had come out of the back room, I guessed, and I was just so lost in thought that my eyes didn't process it. He was tall and older than me, but he was still young in general. He was a waiter or something, I inferred because he had an apron on. He was now drying a mug with what used to be a white rag. It was now a plethora of colors that had stained it. I was going to buy something when I first walked in, but now I realized that I had honestly come here to think about what was going on without also having to worry about driving. Basically, I had only come in here to get a break, not to eat. The waiter hadn't even looked at me yet. He just sat there and dried the same mug insistently.
The two guys at the end of the bar were still talking quietly, and the couple in the back was still making-out. I looked at the couple and remembered when I used to have somebody who cared about me like that. His name was James, and he was my other half. He was everything that I wanted to be and more. We were together for over two years when I caught him cheating on me with a girl named Stephanie. I had kind of known her, but never really got to talk to her. But she wasn't the one I was mad at. James and I had both agreed to wait until after marriage to have sex, but apparently he couldn't hold his end of the promise. I wanted to rid any thought of him from my mind after our break-up in May. Anna was there to comfort me and helped me realize that I could move on with my life because he wasn't really worth it. Of course, she let me wallow for a little over a month, but then she slowly started to ease me back into the world again by taking me on little outings in public. I slowly began to regain my social strength and learned to live with it.
"Are you going to buy anything?" were the words that woke me up from my daydreaming. They were the waiter's words, and he spoke them with concern. I shook my head and looked at him in confusion.
"What?" I asked back.
"Are you going to be ordering anything?" he responded, again looking concerned. I looked around for a second to remember why I had come in here. "Do you want some water or something? You look wiped out," he stated. I looked down at myself. My jeans were the same as two days ago. My hair was still up in the same ponytail. My shirt was only changed once, and I hadn't showered in three days. I was going off of deodorant. I looked back at him, and he half-laughed. I had to laugh with him, but mine, too, was a half-laugh.
"I'm fine, but I will go for that water," I smiled.
"One glass of cold water coming right up!" he said with an enthusiastic smile and a wink. He turned around to grab an unopened bottle of water and a clean glass. He poured the water into the glass while saying, "So what's a girl like you doing in a town like Borger?"
"Borger? I thought I was in Pampa," I said, confused as I took a drink.
"Pampa? Where's that?" he asked teasingly. I eyed him playfully.
"Apparently not here," I added, while looking down at my glass that was half-full of the water. He picked up a new cloth and started washing down the counter in front of me.
"That still doesn't answer my question," he said without looking up at me. I thought about it for a little while before answering.
"I'm visiting…Well, I was suppose to be visiting my grandma in Pampa, but I guess that didn't turn out too well," I lied.
"What's your grandma's name?" he asked, momentarily stopping his work, and leaning over the counter with his arms spread out in a slight 'V'. His elbows were locked and his muscles were flexing. I eyed him suspiciously, but thought it was safe to lie again.
"Aggie. Her name's Aggie," I spoke almost triumphantly. He smiled.
"Grandma Aggie? You got lost while heading to Pampa to visit your grandma Aggie?" he laughed as he spoke. I had to laugh with him. It was a funny story that he apparently didn't buy at all. He looked down and shook his head playfully. "That's funny." He smiled again.
"Hey, don't be making fun of my grandma Aggie now!" I said sarcastically, but playfully. We both smiled at each other, but I wasn't flirting with him because he looked at least seven years older than me.
"What's your name?" he asked hopefully. I thought about it for a second.
"Christie. Christie Walker." I answered. I had been planning to use my fake name from day one. Plus, I did know a Christie Walker, and I thought she was pretty cool.
"Bret Hamilton." He stuck his hand out, and I shook it happily. We both smiled.
"You look like you've been having a rough time. Is everything going okay for you and…uh…your grandma Aggie?" He spoke that last part mockingly with a poor radio announcer voice. We both laughed again.
"Well, to be honest, I've hit a bit of a rough spot the past couple of days, with getting lost and all. But it's nothing I can't handle." I grinned at him.
"You're very confident for a girl who ended up almost two miles away from where she needs to be," he said, smiling back.
"Nah. But what about you? How did you end up here? No offense, but you don't really look like the small town kind of guy," I noted.
"Well," he started, "I'm not. You see, I don't really work here. I…uh…I killed the real owner of this place because I'm…uh…stalking somebody." He was speaking completely sarcastically, but I had to play along.
"Really?" I asked back, dubiously. I folded my arms underneath me on the counter and leaned in really close to hear him.
"Yep. I put the owner's body in the back closet, and the girl I'm stalking is in here right now." He did the same thing and gently leaned his face in.
I gasped playfully. "Really? Is it that girl back there fondling that other guy? Maybe you're stalking her because she's an ex-girlfriend, and somebody's jealous." I had nudged my head back in the direction of the couple.
"Nope," he spoke simply. "She's sitting right in front of me." He smiled. I laughed lightly and gently shook my head, but never took my eyes off of him.
Then he started to look past me. He looked confused for a second, then nodded past me and asked, "That's not your truck, is it?" I turned around in my seat and saw a man looking in through the window to my '05 Ford F-150. I immediately knew who it was but was unable to process the full blow of it. I recognized the police officer from the apartment that I was in a couple of days ago. He had a bandage around his nose from when the patriots guy had smacked him with my backpack. At that time I had thought that he was just a construction worker or something. I guess not. He looked a lot older now than at the apartment. He had a balding spot on the middle of his head. Like Mr. Fantaski did, except his hair was red, and he was skinny. Definitely not like Mr. Fantaski. He stopped looking through my window and walked through the doors to the diner.
I didn't have a chance to answer Bret because the officer walked in too soon. When he first walked through the doors, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't just run because there was nowhere to run to. But I couldn't just sit there either. How in the world was he able to follow me all the way into Texas? I was having a mini-panic attack, but on the outside I was able to keep my cool. I turned around and stared down, focusing on my glass of water.
"Can I help you sir?" I heard Bret ask. I didn't have to see his face to tell that Bret apparently didn't like this cop already. I felt the officer get a little closer. I saw the guys at the end of the bar out of the corner of my eyes. They stopped talking and turned their heads, as if to avoid the officer's glance. I also heard the couple in the back start laughing. I guess it was at the bandage that stretched across the officer's face. I had to smile at the memory of the moment it had happened.
The officer just stood there. He wasn't saying anything, and I wasn't facing him to be able to see where his eyes were. The kids in the back had abruptly stopped laughing so I guessed that he had just glared at them or something.
"I said can I help you, sir?" Bret grew impatient. Again, I couldn't see what the cop's facial expression was, but I guessed that it couldn't have been pretty. I heard him slowly make his way to three stools down from me. When he sat down, I glanced over at him, but luckily he wasn't looking at me.
"Can I just have a glass of water?" the officer asked. His voice had a deep southern accent and was scratchy as he spoke slowly.
Bret turned around to grab another glass and another water. The officer took it and continued to look around the diner. When his eyes glanced across me, he paused. I quickly turned my head away, but I could still feel his eyes on me. When I gently turned my head towards him, he was about to say something, but somebody else walked into the diner, preventing him of speech at the moment.
I gently turned my body to see, yet again, the Patriot's jacket. I immediately turned back around and sighed deeply, knowing that there was no way for me to get out of this one. But I did smile at the bruise that was still covering his left eye. The cop apparently did not recognize him because he turned around to look at him, but then turned back to Bret and didn't worry about it. The Patriot guy hadn't seen my face yet, but he did stand there at the door for a moment.
"How's it going Bret?" the Patriot guy asked. His accent was as sharp as it was in New Mexico. I turned around and looked up at Bret. He had a look on his face. A look that said he knew the Patriot guy. He was looking at him incredulously with the hint of a smile, and a light in his eyes. I was appalled that this man had lied to me. He's helping the Patriot's guy! Now I was caught with three people to run from, but nowhere to run to. My life pretty much sucked at this point. I even saw the two older guys get up and walk out. But I looked up at Bret one more time. He was still caught up with the Patriot guy.
"I'm doing just perfect." He spoke almost sarcastically, but glared at the patriot guy to whole time.
I turned around again, and I have no idea why, but I smiled. I quickly realized that I was smiling at the Patriot guy. I was actually smiling at him. I swiftly turned back around to Bret. He was still looking at the Patriot guy, but his smile was gone. I turned to the officer. He was looking at Bret as if he were trying to figure something out in his head.
"Do you know who that truck belongs to, son?" he asked Bret. He took a moment to think about it.
"No, sir," Bret answered, not taking his eyes off of the Patriot guy. Judging by the way he was looking at him, I was starting to think that they were enemies, not friends.
I turned around to watch the Patriot guy again. I knew that he had seen me by now, but he wasn't doing anything about it. He was walking over to the stool that was two stools to my left, though. The officer was on my right, so I was pretty much covered from both sides now.
"Can I get a water?" the patriot guy asked.
"Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?" Bret asked the officer while holding his pointer finger up to tell the Patriot's guy to 'hold on'.
"Well, actually," the officer started while reaching into one of his pockets to grab a piece of paper, "you can help me find this woman." He showed the picture to Bret. I didn't see it, but I already knew whose picture it was. And if it wasn't mine, then it was a pretty big coincidence that Bret's face immediately looked worried.
"Please, can I have some water? I'm thirsty," the Patriot guy asked, getting irritable. Again, Bret held up a finger as he listened to the officer go on.
"She's in a heap of trouble with the states of New Mexico and Oklahoma. And now even Texas. And, uh…it'd be a real help if you could tell me where she is." The officer was playing tricks with my mind. I wasn't in trouble with any states. He just wanted to make me sound that bad because it was my bag that gave him the bandage that defaced him. Plus, he had already seen me, and I know that was my picture he showed Bret. So why won't he arrest me?
"Um…well…sir…" Bret stuttered. He was apparently as confused as I was.
"Hello! Water!" the Patriot guy yelled, obviously not paying attention to anything that was happening.
"Damn it, Matt! Will you shut up?" Bret screamed back, his voice tense. I saw the couple get up and quickly leave. I got up and began to follow them. I was about to open the door to leave, but the officer's voice sent chills down my spine.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you…Kalli." He spoke slowly.
I froze, mid-step. I was so close! I slowly turned around. I saw the look in Bret's eyes, along with the Patriot guy's, whose real name was apparently Matt.
"Her name's not Kalli," Bret laughed, "it's Christie." But as soon as the officer looked at him, his smile went away. I looked over at Matt. He was watching me suspiciously, just like he did at the motel. I just knew that he was laughing at me right now. But all I was really worried about was getting out of there without being arrested for something that I didn't even do.
"Not Kalli, you say?" the officer said, while also looking at me suspiciously. "Tisk, tisk, Kalli. You've been lying to these poor innocent people." He spoke just as slowly as before. I took a deep breath to try to clear my mind, so that he wouldn't get inside my head. I didn't want him making me think that I had done something wrong.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," I finally said. I looked over at Matt, and he smiled warmly. Bret looked confused again.
"Kalli, don't play with me. You're in a load of trouble as it is, missy." The officer pointed to his bandage. "And, uh…that is your truck out there, isn't it?" he asked. I looked at him confused.
"Look, her name's not Kalli. It's Christie," Matt said. I looked at him surprisingly. He lied for me? Wait a minute! He just wants to get me out of this so that he can deal with me himself.
"What did you just say?" the officer asked Matt. I looked at Bret who looked confused and scared out of his mind. He looked like he wanted to get the heck out of there. Luckily for him, it showed to everyone.
"Why don't you go into the back room now, son. You've done enough, and you shouldn't be in here right now. Thank you for the water," the officer told him. Bret nodded and ran back through some door to the kitchen.
"And you are?" the officer asked Matt. Matt sat there and thought about it for a second.
"The name's Matt. No last name, so don't ask. And Christie here is riding with me, so, no, that's not her truck," Matt answered, again with that brilliant English accent.
"Is that so? Then why do I have a picture of her here that says 'wanted' underneath it?" The officer held my picture up to Matt. Matt got up and took it out of his hands. He looked at it for a second, and then held it up towards me. He was apparently comparing me to the picture.
"That looks nothing like Christie!" he exclaimed. "And I would appreciate it if you would stop harassing my…friend now," he stuttered, but handed the picture back to the cop. Matt smiled at me. I glared back.
"Look, boy, I realize that she may be another pretty face that you believe is innocent, but I know better. I don't have time for your silly games. Now I have given her a chance to turn herself in, and she chose not to, so I'm going to have to take her by force. Now step aside," the officer explained while Matt had slowly put himself between the cop and me.
"Look, now I honestly have no idea what you're talking about," I said, in major confusion.
"You don't have to say anything, Christie. You have the right to remain silent," Matt said with his head cocked towards me.
"Oh, yeah, like you should be talking!" I started.
"Would you just shut-up, I'm trying to save your life here!" Matt was completely turned around to me now.
"All right, Kalli. Let's go," the officer said while walking towards me and pulling handcuffs off of his belt.
"Wait a minute…just hold on for a second." Matt turned around and put his hands out to block the officer. He slowly put them down and said, "If you're going to take her in for what she did, then you're going to have to take me for what I've done, too." I looked up at him incredulously then at the cop.
"And what did you do?" the officer asked him sarcastically, almost putting the cuffs down.
"Well, let's just say that I've hit you once. Don't think I won't do it again," Matt said arrogantly with a smile. I had to smile at that, too. I saw the look on the officer's face go from deep thought to remembrance.
"You!" he yelled out in disgust. Matt's smile went away, but he reached for his hip. I thought he was going to grab his gun, but he just grabbed a small jar out of his jacket's pocket. He hit it over the officer's head before the cop could pull his gun out. I stared in disbelief as the officer hit the floor in pain. Matt immediately turned around and rushed through the doors.
"Son of a…" I heard the officer curse in pain as I turned around to follow Matt. Matt evidently ran to my truck, other than his form of transportation. He was about to get in when he saw me still standing in front of the diner.
"Are you coming or not?" he asked, apparently thinking that I was actually going with him.
"Excuse me?" I shot back. "You just busted a police officer's head in with a beer bottle! You really think that I'm going to get into the same car as you?"
"Okay, first of all, he deserved it. Second of all, it was a little glass jar, not a beer bottle. I'm not stupid enough to drive drunk. Third of all, you're apparently as much of a criminal as me. And fourth of all, either way, I'm taking your truck. So either you come with me now and get it back later, or you never see it again," he tried to reason. Then the look on his face went from being in a hurry to being scared. "Bloody officer, six o'clock!" he yelled to warn me, then jumped in the car. I turned around and saw the officer running at the doors with a tiny scrap on his head where he was bleeding. He burst out of the diner as I ran to my truck and got in at the passenger side. I quickly put on my seatbelt while Matt turned the car on and put it in reverse. We sped out of there while the officer cursed at the top of his lungs. "Man, I didn't even get my water." Matt tried to say quietly to himself. I realized that he wasn't using his English accent anymore.
I knew he was faking it! I was still catching my breath as Matt drove. About five minutes later, we were driving in complete silence while I watched exactly where he was going. But he kept driving in a big circle around the outskirts of town, so I figured he was actually lost.
"Make a right up here," I spoke softly as I pointed to the correct street. "It will take us to I-27 south. From there, we'll hit some back roads that will take us to I-20 east. We'll follow that all the way into Oklahoma. The least you can give me is a ride back home." Matt looked at me incredulously.
"The least I can give you? I'm pretty sure it was me who saved your butt back there. If anything, you owe me," Matt was smiling. I didn't even respond to him. I was scared to death that I was in the same car as the guy who murdered my best friend's family. I knew what he was capable of. At first I just wanted to find him so that I could ask him how a person could do something like that. But I found out that he had a gun, which changed everything. I was no longer trying to find him, but, rather, run away from him. Yet there I was, sitting next to him in my truck.
"Wow," I heard him whisper. "So you, uh…You really know your way around here, don't you?" he asked.
"Not really. I just know how to observe my surroundings when I pass through them, that's all," I answered quietly, still looking out the window. I saw him look at me with concern through his reflection off of the window.
"So your real name's Kalli, huh?" he asked.
"Yep," I said simply.
"Kalli…That's a pretty name." He smiled. My eyes were just starting to tear up.
"Are you all right?" he asked after a minute in a voice that matched his concerned reflection. I was actually crying now. It was soft, but you could still hear it in my voice.
"What do you think? I'm in my frickin car with a guy who not only murdered my best friend's family, but also tried to kill me two days ago! Plus, I just watched him hit a police officer over the head with a glass bottle! How do you think I am?" I yelled at him. I was looking at him now, and I can tell you one thing; my face did not have a smile on it.
"Hey, woah! Slow down! Now, what?" he yelled back.
I grunted in frustration through my crying. I buried my head in my hands and just cried.
"Hey," he said calmly as he reached his hand out and touched my shoulder sympathetically.
"Don't touch me!" I screamed with a scratchy voice. His hand shot back over his head like he was surrendering. His other hand was still on the wheel, though. He brought it back down to the wheel slowly as I positioned myself with my back up against the door so that I could watch his every move through my teary eyes.
"Look, I don't know what you're talking about, but I do know that I saved your life back there in that diner!" he began to get frustrated, too.
"Don't lie to me!" I said through gritted teeth as I leaned forward and slapped his arm. I thought it was going to be my last move ever, but he just flinched and glared at me. "I know that was you in her house! I saw you in that window! Don't tell me that wasn't you!" He didn't respond to me. He just kept his eyes forward on the road. I noticed that he was slowing down near a park. I had seen this park twice when I first drove into this town yesterday. It had two swing sets, a teeter-totter, and a merry-go-round. When he stopped he waited. I was so scared that I had completely stopped crying, but my cheeks were still stained from the tears. He just sat there, facing forwards with both hands on the wheel.
"How did you know her?" he asked simply and quietly without looking at me.
"I was her best friend," I said just as quietly. He turned his head the other way and shut his eyes.
He finally turned his head to look at me. He had small tears in his eyes, too. He nodded slowly and softly. "You really think…that I tried to kill you a couple days ago? You think that's what that was? You think that I was the one who killed Anna's family?"
"Don't you dare say her name!" I screamed and hit him again. His eyes released a tear as he blinked in slight pain, but that was all. He shook his head in disbelief.
"That was me you saw in the window that day, yes, but I didn't kill them," he, again, said softly. "I was warning them. I was warning them to get out of the house…to leave the city. I was supposed to save them. I was just trying to help."
"What? No, you're lying." I shook my head in disbelief. This was too much to handle right now.
"I'm not! I was trying to save them, but I got there too late. I couldn't help them. You've got to believe me, Kalli. I was trying to help them," he semi-pleaded. His voice was scratchy, too, from his crying. I didn't respond. I just sat there, staring at him in disbelief.
"So you're saying that you were in the house, but you didn't kill them?" I finally asked, although it sounded more like a statement. He looked at me confused.
"Yes," he started, but I cut him off.
"Then why drive all the way out to New Mexico, huh? Why leave the state? And what about two days ago in that apartment. When you had that gun. And when you stole my tags? What the heck was that?"
"You were following me! I had to get out of the state because my prints were all over her house, and I knew the cops would track it back to me. But then I realized you had been following me since Oklahoma. I didn't know you or why you were doing it, but I was trying to get away from you at that point! Then I was trying to figure out who you were, and why you followed me! After I knew that I'd lost you in Madrid, I tried researching about you, but I didn't have anything on you. I had no idea who you were. That's why I took your tags. I needed something to connect it all together. And when I saw her name on one of them, I knew. I knew I had to give them back and never try to find you again. But you ran. You ran away from me, so I had to follow you. And the apartment thing was when I was going to give them back, but you started hitting me first. I was just defending myself. Why do you think I was so caught up in getting the heck out of there once the cop showed up? I promise, I had no intention of hurting you," he finished.
I thought about what he was saying, and it did make sense, but he could have easily been lying. This guy was definitely not on my trustworthy list. "Then what's with the hair and the contacts and the fake accent and stuff? And why do you have a gun? And why did you follow me here?" I asked more openly. I was calm now, but speaking normally. His tone of voice was also back to normal.
"That's just…too complicated," he said as he turned away.
"Complicated? That's just too complicated? No. What's complicated is that I'm facing the man who I saw in my best friend's house the day she died, and he's telling me that he didn't do it. What's complicated is that the same man is telling me that he stole my property to get to know me. What's complicated—" I started again, but he cut me off.
"Okay, okay. I get it!" he sounded frustrated again.
"Look, all I'm saying is that I at least deserve to know the little things," I added. He turned his eyes towards the front and sat there, waiting for a moment.
"I got into some trouble with the wrong people, that's all," he finally said, but without looking at me. I looked at him confused. "Look, I'll explain everything else to you later. Right now, we have to get out of here," he said, looking in the rear view mirror. I didn't see what he was looking at, but I didn't care. I was finally getting some answers, and he wasn't going to stop giving them to me now. I reached for the keys to the car with every intention of taking them out to prevent us from leaving, but Matt grabbed my hand when I was about to touch the keys, and I felt a spark. Not a spark as in an electrical current, but the feeling you get when somebody touches you softly for the first time. I looked up at his calm face, barely stained with tears. We looked into each other's eyes for just a moment. I saw regret in there, yet I knew that mine were serene. Sirens wailing in the background ended our moment. I turned around to look out of the back window, but Matt was apparently two steps ahead of me because he had already put the truck in motion by the time I turned back around. He quickly got back onto the road and sped to an intersection at the end. I told him to go right, and we were off towards the interstate. He asked me where I wanted to go again and I told him to head back towards Stillwater. He thought about it, and then agreed. We were on our way.