2.
Romero.
~ Alex had to stop himself from telling this woman that maybe she should have taken the time to get a coat before running into the increasingly cold weather. Fall in Oregon wasn't like anywhere else. They could never warn people from out of state enough how cold it could get once the sun went down. She was inadequately dressed for the weather with just a simple skirt, blouse and thin looking sweater.
He would have gently pointed all this out to her, but the woman, this Mrs. Bates, was out pacing him by a fair amount already. Her slip on shoes, also not suitable for the weather, were as swift and nimble as ballerina steps down the concrete stairs.
"I can't believe Dylan didn't say anything about some creep... what exactly happened?" Mrs. Bates asked once she'd gotten to the foot of the stairs and waited for Romero to catch up.
"Mr. Summers had come to the property yesterday afternoon." Alex said calmly and looked towards the run down motel. "Apparently saying how he owned it and said he would come back."
"I was home all day yesterday." Mrs. Bates said making a swift march towards the office. Alex conference the old building would fall to pieces if she were to ram into it at her pace. Her stride and power was so great she hardly waited for him at all. "Why didn't he say anything?"
"Maybe he didn't want to worry you." Alex offered.
He followed her into the front office. A disaster of a room that smelled of musty papers and stacked with old furniture and moldy carpet.
"Sorry about the mess." She said absentmindedly fishing out a cigar box full of old keys.
"It's fine." Alex assured her pulling out a flashlight from his belt and shining it into the back office. A sight much worse than the front office with old file cabinets left on their sides.
"We bought this place 'as is'." She explained and found the sets of room keys. "I was going to have the boys clean out the front office this weekend. We still haven't even found the original deed yet, had to get a copy from city hall. If it keeps raining..." she trailed off and showed him the master key.
"Keith wasn't known for his house keeping." Alex told her. He was thankful Mrs. Bates had at least replaced the outside lights so the place looked less dark and dreary.
"The motel was built in the 60's and it seems that's the last time any improvements were done." She sighed opening room one so Alex could look inside.
It was like a time capsule. Hideously preserved and morbid to behold. Shag carpet, retro mid entry dresser and king size bed; savagely stripped of everything but the bed frames.
Even the wall paper was the same, faded but still showing the orange flowers of the mod sixties old Mrs. Summers had thought were so stylish. Alex peeped in the bathroom. Saw Mrs. Bates and stripped out the shower curtains as well as the bedding.
"We're going to take out the carpet tomorrow." She told him looking at the disgusting shag. "All this rain and mud. It would be easier just to have laminate flooring. Faux wood."
"Might have a good plumber come." Alex said. "Toilets never flushed right. Always had to jiggle the handle."
"You stayed at this motel a lot, Sheriff?" Mrs. Bates asked suspiciously. Alex seeing her alarmingly blue eyes narrow at him and he realized his slip up. It was never a good thing to admit you stayed at a motel when you lived here.
"Let's check the other rooms." He said as an answer.
Norma.
~ It was embarrassing to have the local Sheriff come and examine each room like this. When each room had it's own particular theme of disgust and decay that Norma hadn't had time to address. She'd been making a list to strip out all the carpets. Each room had a different set of carpet color and texture. Seeming to represent a different decade and none of them looking clean. All the mattresses had to go as well and she was thankful she had already thrown them out with the sheets and shower curtains that were breeding things. Thankful she'd taken it upon herself to scrub the bathrooms with old fashioned powdered soap until they now smelled of disinfectant and not of foulness.
The good news was the water pressure was good and tiles could be saved. Dylan was right that they might need a new water heater, but that shouldn't be too bad. Maybe this Sheriff was right about having a plumber look at the toilets. He seemed to know more than she did.
'Clearly he was a frequent guest.' She thought bitterly showing him the last cabin.
"Have you had anyone come to the house? Bothering you?" he asked her unlocking the last room himself.
"A few." She admitted.
He nodded and let himself in. The lights didn't snap on.
"Damn it." Norma groaned. "I thought I just replaced that bulb."
The outside lights from the walkway were more than enough for them to see the room in. He checked the bathroom, ensuring there wasn't anyone hiding.
"I want you and... Dylan, to keep all the rooms locked each night." the Sheriff said.
"We already do that." Norma snapped feeling frustrated by everything that had already happened. She watched with new annoyance as he pulled a chair from the small table by the window up to the overhead light fixture.
"Hold this." He said handing her his flashlight and stood, wet, dirty shoes and all, on top of her chair to examine the light.
It flickered back to life at the slightest touch. Bathing the room in a yellow, reassuring glow.
"Just needed to be tightened." He said hopping back down and taking his flashlight from her.
"Thank you." Norma said feeling distrustful and crossing her arms over her chest.
"Laundry room?" the Sheriff asked.
"Over there." Norma nodded to the back end of the motel. "Across from the ice machine. I'm worried I'm going to have to replace that to."
"Maybe." The Sheriff said cryptically. He followed her out to the small coin operated laundry room where the machines were large and as ancient as the motel.
"I have no idea if they still work." Norma said sadly. "They aren't high on my list of priorities."
"You need to get that taken care of." The Sheriff shone his flash light into the eyesore of the motel. The large pile of junk that had accumulated over the decades and had been left to rot. There was an old car, older than the motel even, rusted bikes and who knew what else.
"Keith Summers was fined multiple times for it. If someone were to run into it, get hurt, you could be sued." he warned.
"I know!" Norma rolled her eyes in frustration. "I've already called a scrap yard, I can't seem to get anyone to come out here. They act like they don't even want my business. Won't return my calls or even give me a quote."
"Who did you call?" he asked.
"Both places in town." She said. "It's not like we're in Phoenix anymore. There aren't a lot of options."
She felt bad that she was becoming snippy, but it was cold out, the evening was turning terrible and seeing her motel through this man's eyes was making her realize that maybe she'd made a huge mistake in buying it sight unseen.
"I'll make some calls." He said cryptically. "In the meantime, I think you should see about installing a security system in the house and here at the motel. Just in case someone decides to stay here without you knowing."
The idea made Norma's skin crawl.
"Squatters?" She asked.
He shrugged and felt his hand move to the small of her back pushing her towards the office. He quickly moved his hand away when she stiffened. She'd never liked to be touched very much. It was different with her boys, but to even be casually touched by a stranger was something that made her uncomfortable.
"I just don't want another incident like what happened tonight." the Sheriff said nodding towards the house. "Make sure you lock the doors and if anyone suspicious starts coming around, give me a call. He reached into his back pocket and handed her a business card.
A simple thing that his name and a series of phone numbers to reach him at. Office, cell, fax and department phone. How that was different from his office phone, Norma didn't know.
"Thank you." Norma said feeling the bitter gust of wind cut through her skirt and making her wish she'd brought a jacket.
She nodded vaguely to the woods by her house.
"For getting... that... guy." She said.
"Keith. Keith Summers." He clarified. The pair of them standing awkwardly by the office as if waiting for a sign to leave.
"You... um.. you may have to come to the Sheriff's station tomorrow. Officially press charges. As the property owner." He said slowly.
"Thought you said the county would do that." Norma said sharply.
He shrugged.
"Might be more effective. Show the judge you take it seriously. What happened. That you don't want him around anymore. We can even ask for a restraining order against him. If you're there." He said carefully.
"Okay." Norma said reasoning that made sense. She wanted this Keith Summers person to never set foot on her property again. She had enough to deal with.
"Maybe, come by around 10? We can get started on the paper work?" He offered. "Be done in less than an hour."
"That sounds good." She said.
"Alright." He said with an awkward smile. His eyes failing to connect with hers. "Tomorrow at 10. The Sheriff's station is downtown. Can't miss it."
"Okay." Norma said. "Should Dylan come?" She asked. "Since he was the one who'll filed the complaint?"
"No." Romero said quickly striding away from her and not looking back. "You're the owner. Just you."
I'm glad to be getting good feedback on this story so far. I always hated the Keith Summers assault scene and so I've written it out completely. I understand that it's important to show Norma could survive and conquer over something like that, but it's an unpleasant trigger for most of us watching and we always fast forward to where she meets Alex anyway. ~L