Disclaimer: See Acknowledgements page
CHAPTER SIX
Anna arrived at the warehouse shortly before dawn. It was still dark, so she would have to wait awhile before she could begin searching the alley where she's had seen him yesterday. But she didn't mind too much as this little interval gave her time to contemplate her game plan. She knew he was playing a game of cat and mouse....in his mind, he was the cat and she was the mouse. Unfortunately for him, he had forgotten the story about the mouse that roared. And what a roar she had. She was not the same person he had known eighteen months ago. That was one of her advantages. However, she did have a few problems. She didn't have a car which made it difficult to get around. In fact, she didn't have any money for gas. Heck, she didn't even have money for food. Of course, that didn't bother her too much. With her schedule, she constantly missed meals here and there, so she could survive for a short period without it. But the fact she was in another dimension might prove to be a little vexing. After all, it was a different place with different people and such. She would just have to cross those bridges when she came to them.
Finally, the sun appeared above, so she began her search. After about 20 minutes, she found what she was looking for. In the middle of the alley behind a dumpster was a book of matches from some motel with the words 'It's all your fault' written on the inside cover. As she read those words, unpleasant memories came to mind and the fury in her resurfaced. BASTARD! When I get through with you, you'll wish you had never known those words existed.
The Roosevelt Motel. From the looks of it, Roach Motel suited it better, she thought as she stared at the dilapidated building before her. The address on the matchbook had said it was located on Roberts Street. She remembered passing that street on her way to the warehouse, so she backtracked until she reached it. Once there, it was only a short while before she found the motel. Well, this poor excuse for one. She headed towards the door marked "Office." A "VACANCY" sign hung in the window which didn't surprise her.
She entered the building and looked around. The decor matched the exterior. To her right was a light blue sofa, threadbare in places and badly stained. The coffee table in front of it was littered with old magazines and ashtrays filled with cigarette butts. Next to it was a Coke and a candy machine. A very large, old oscillating fan sat on a shelf above blowing a cool breeze her way. Finally, her eyes rested on the reservation desk. Behind it sat a tall, thin man with a scraggly beard, and long, greasy blonde hair slicked back into a ponytail. He wore an earring in his left ear and an old Harley-Davidson T-shirt, a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve. He looked up from the magazine he'd been reading and smiled, his teeth badly stained by tar. Anna walked towards him and set down the bag containing her clothes. "Hello, Beautiful," he said with a lecherous grin. "And what can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for a man and I hope you can help me," she replied.
"Well, gorgeous, you've come to the right place. I'm all the man you need."
Anna ignored his advances and continued, "The man I'm looking for is a male Caucasian, about six-two, blonde hair, blue eyes, approximately thirty years old. Might have used the name Michael Lansing. Have you seen him?"
"You know, you sound like a cop," his voice hardening. "I don't talk to cops." The man went back to reading his magazine, ignoring Anna. She could tell by the sound of his voice he knew who Michael was and could probably tell her where to find him. So she quickly reached around, grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face on the counter. He tried to sit back up, but Anna was much too strong for him.
"Listen, sleaze ball, I'm not a cop," she said, trying to control the anger in her voice. "But I am one determined little momma. The man I described left a matchbook from this motel for me, so I know he was here. So I think it would be in your best interest if you told me what I wanted to know," she added very forcefully. Anna lightly squeezed the man's neck to show him she meant business.
"Ouch," he said, obviously in pain. "Your name Anna?" The sleaze ball was scared.
"Yeah, what about it?" was her reply.
"The guy you're looking for gave me an envelope and told me that if someone named Anna came by, I was to give it to her. If you'll let me up, I'll get it for you." Anna released her hold on the man. He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, then reached down and pulled out an envelope. She took the envelope, picked up her bag, nodded a goodbye and headed for the door. The man called after her as she opened the door, "Hey, how'd ya get to be so strong?"
"Spinach," she said with a slight grin as she closed the door. Once outside, she set down her bag and looked at the envelope. On the front was her name and address in an all too familiar handwriting. It brought back memories of similar envelopes she had received and a sense of panic began to fill her. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. Take a deep breath and relax. He did this on purpose knowing what it would do to you when you saw it. Don't let him get to you. Don't let him win at these little mind games he's playing with you. Just relax. Relax. Relax. Having regained her composure, she opened her eyes, then the envelope. Inside was a photograph of an old-style Victorian home, much like the one she restored, and a map of Seacouver. On the back of the picture was an address - 633 Paradise Lane - apparently her next destination. So she committed the map to memory, and then stuffed the picture and the map back into the envelope. She picked up her bag bound for Paradise Lane, dropping the envelope in a nearby garbage can as she went.
CHAPTER SIX
Anna arrived at the warehouse shortly before dawn. It was still dark, so she would have to wait awhile before she could begin searching the alley where she's had seen him yesterday. But she didn't mind too much as this little interval gave her time to contemplate her game plan. She knew he was playing a game of cat and mouse....in his mind, he was the cat and she was the mouse. Unfortunately for him, he had forgotten the story about the mouse that roared. And what a roar she had. She was not the same person he had known eighteen months ago. That was one of her advantages. However, she did have a few problems. She didn't have a car which made it difficult to get around. In fact, she didn't have any money for gas. Heck, she didn't even have money for food. Of course, that didn't bother her too much. With her schedule, she constantly missed meals here and there, so she could survive for a short period without it. But the fact she was in another dimension might prove to be a little vexing. After all, it was a different place with different people and such. She would just have to cross those bridges when she came to them.
Finally, the sun appeared above, so she began her search. After about 20 minutes, she found what she was looking for. In the middle of the alley behind a dumpster was a book of matches from some motel with the words 'It's all your fault' written on the inside cover. As she read those words, unpleasant memories came to mind and the fury in her resurfaced. BASTARD! When I get through with you, you'll wish you had never known those words existed.
The Roosevelt Motel. From the looks of it, Roach Motel suited it better, she thought as she stared at the dilapidated building before her. The address on the matchbook had said it was located on Roberts Street. She remembered passing that street on her way to the warehouse, so she backtracked until she reached it. Once there, it was only a short while before she found the motel. Well, this poor excuse for one. She headed towards the door marked "Office." A "VACANCY" sign hung in the window which didn't surprise her.
She entered the building and looked around. The decor matched the exterior. To her right was a light blue sofa, threadbare in places and badly stained. The coffee table in front of it was littered with old magazines and ashtrays filled with cigarette butts. Next to it was a Coke and a candy machine. A very large, old oscillating fan sat on a shelf above blowing a cool breeze her way. Finally, her eyes rested on the reservation desk. Behind it sat a tall, thin man with a scraggly beard, and long, greasy blonde hair slicked back into a ponytail. He wore an earring in his left ear and an old Harley-Davidson T-shirt, a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve. He looked up from the magazine he'd been reading and smiled, his teeth badly stained by tar. Anna walked towards him and set down the bag containing her clothes. "Hello, Beautiful," he said with a lecherous grin. "And what can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for a man and I hope you can help me," she replied.
"Well, gorgeous, you've come to the right place. I'm all the man you need."
Anna ignored his advances and continued, "The man I'm looking for is a male Caucasian, about six-two, blonde hair, blue eyes, approximately thirty years old. Might have used the name Michael Lansing. Have you seen him?"
"You know, you sound like a cop," his voice hardening. "I don't talk to cops." The man went back to reading his magazine, ignoring Anna. She could tell by the sound of his voice he knew who Michael was and could probably tell her where to find him. So she quickly reached around, grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face on the counter. He tried to sit back up, but Anna was much too strong for him.
"Listen, sleaze ball, I'm not a cop," she said, trying to control the anger in her voice. "But I am one determined little momma. The man I described left a matchbook from this motel for me, so I know he was here. So I think it would be in your best interest if you told me what I wanted to know," she added very forcefully. Anna lightly squeezed the man's neck to show him she meant business.
"Ouch," he said, obviously in pain. "Your name Anna?" The sleaze ball was scared.
"Yeah, what about it?" was her reply.
"The guy you're looking for gave me an envelope and told me that if someone named Anna came by, I was to give it to her. If you'll let me up, I'll get it for you." Anna released her hold on the man. He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, then reached down and pulled out an envelope. She took the envelope, picked up her bag, nodded a goodbye and headed for the door. The man called after her as she opened the door, "Hey, how'd ya get to be so strong?"
"Spinach," she said with a slight grin as she closed the door. Once outside, she set down her bag and looked at the envelope. On the front was her name and address in an all too familiar handwriting. It brought back memories of similar envelopes she had received and a sense of panic began to fill her. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. Take a deep breath and relax. He did this on purpose knowing what it would do to you when you saw it. Don't let him get to you. Don't let him win at these little mind games he's playing with you. Just relax. Relax. Relax. Having regained her composure, she opened her eyes, then the envelope. Inside was a photograph of an old-style Victorian home, much like the one she restored, and a map of Seacouver. On the back of the picture was an address - 633 Paradise Lane - apparently her next destination. So she committed the map to memory, and then stuffed the picture and the map back into the envelope. She picked up her bag bound for Paradise Lane, dropping the envelope in a nearby garbage can as she went.