Chapter 4 - It Takes Two...

(...the streets of Middleton...about an hour later...)

A navy blue car makes its way down the road. Behind the wheel is a young woman with shoulder-length brown hair. She's about twenty. Every so often, she wipes tears from her eyes. She is, apparently, not in the best of spirits. Then again, how else would one react to news from their younger brother that their mother was taken out of their home?

Lila cared for her mother, despite what history may dictate. One would think that the bond between mother and daughter would be the strongest thing in the world. Lila's relationship with her mother worked overtime to wreck that stereotype. They'd engage in shouting matches. The typical kind, really: "Don't stay out too late!", "What are you wearing?" and the ever-popular "I'm only trying to do what's best for you!"

At the end of the day, Lila was Daddy's little girl. She and her father were practically inseparable. Among other things, they took walks together and did some work around the house.

A great swell of sadness swept over her as she approached her old home. From time to time in the arguments, Lila would let slip the expression "I hate you! I wish you were dead!" Never once did she mean it, and now...

Her car pulls into the driveway. She takes a breath as she turns off the engine.

Lila nervously approaches the house. Her hand brings up her ring of keys. She searches for the key to the front door. Unfortunately, she'd long since cast off her house keys.

She rings the doorbell. The door opens. Standing before her is Josh. He is quite surprised to see her. After several moments without speaking, the two siblings embrace.

(...Bueno Nacho...about twenty minutes later...)

Kim and Monique sit in a booth. Not unlike Tara, the two of them grew disenchanted with the mall as a weekend hang-out spot. Of course, it could be argued (and sometimes has been) that they hang out at Bueno Nacho too much. Oh, well.

How Monique savored her days off from Club Banana. The dark-haired girl enjoys a chimmerito, while the redhead takes a pass on dining.

"...was just so cold. Can you believe that?"

No response.

"Monique?"

She swallows her mouthful.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yeah. 'Yesterday, I ran into Josh. We were talking and Ron rushed me away. He was just so cold.' Every word."

"He also had the nerve to say that Josh stole Tara from him. He could've had Tara at any time."

"But nothing happened?"

"Yeah. He didn't know about her."

"And why do you suppose that is?"

Kim looks up. "Come again?"

"Look at the facts, Kim: Ron has a chance with a girl who likes him...a lot. You know about the girl's crush, but you don't say anything to him."

"Monique, what are you getting at?"

She waves her hands. "Nothing, nothing." She leans in. "Except that there may have been a reason for this."

"I'm not following you."

A smirk develops on Monique's face. "I've seen how you look at him when you think no one's looking. Even when he's at home, doing nothing, you're so concerned."

Kim eyes her friend with derision. "Do you realize how absurd you sound; looking for meaningless little bits like that where they don't exist?"

"I'm just goin' on what I see."

"Well, maybe you should have your eyes checked."

Monique laughs a bit as she returns to her meal.

(...a hotel lobby...ten minutes later...)

People rushing around. Luggage being transported. The dings of elevators. In other words, the common environment of this type of place.

Through the front door step two women, both in business suits. The dark-haired woman stands behind the brown-haired one, seemingly pushing her along. They walk toward the front desk, where a young man talks on the phone.

As they approach the desk, the young man hangs up.

The man's voice carries a slight Canadian accent. "Good afternoon, and welcome to the Crowne Plaza. How may I help you?"

"Hello. We'd like a room, please", replied the younger woman with a sort of forced cheeriness.

"Certainly. Would you like a single?"

"A suite will be fine." Sally tries to put one a smile, but her heart doesn't seem to be in it. The young man notes the expression.

"Is your...um, partner all right?"

The young woman is momentarily stunned by this assumption; two women want one room. No big. But, hey, when in Rome...

"Oh, she's just nervous. She's never done this sort of thing before." She leans in close. "Some think of it as me 'robbing the grave', but I like to think of it as her 'robbing the sorority house'." A chuckle escapes her lips.

The man's eyes roll slightly. "Okay. Don't let me stand in the way of the fun." His fingers dance about the keyboard. "All right. We have a suite available on the ninth floor."

"That's terrific, isn't it?" She hugs Sally, really playing the part.

"I'll just need to see some identification and a major credit card."

The women pull out their ID cards. The dark-haired woman whips out a Discover card. Sally glanced at the cards on the desk. They reminded her so much of the days in the agency when she was in similar situations. She always got such good ones.

"Okay, Miss Grace. Miss Littleton. You're in room 909." He hands them a pair of plastic keys. "Enjoy your stay."

"Oh, we will."

The women walk to an elevator, followed by a bellman toting their (quite heavy) baggage.

The younger woman pushes the 'up' button next to the elevator. "'Robbing the sorority house'? You really are too much."

"Well, if you didn't have such a bad poker face, I wouldn't have had to make up that crap."

There is a 'ding' as the doors open. The women step inside among a number of other people.

(...room 909...minutes later...)

This was one of those situations that one must endure when dealing with people of different viewpoints; each of the four other patrons had to get off on different floors. This agitated the already on-edge dark-haired woman.

The sound of a card sliding into a lock and a 'beep' allow the women into their suite. They are taken with the sheer opulence of the room: fancy beds, beautiful artwork and - of course - the mini bar.

A youthful, almost-out-of-breath voice from nowhere. "And this is your room." The bellman. He'd been trailing behind them. What were these women carrying in these bags? Bowling balls? Though he knew not to say anything; wouldn't want to jeopardize any chances of a tip, right? He and the bags collapsed in a heap on the floor.

Sally is drawn to the hapless young man. "Oh, I'm so sorry." She reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a ten-dollar bill. "Here you go."

The bellman picks himself up. "Thank you, ma'am." He stuffs the gratuity in his pocket and walks out.

The younger woman smirks. "Very nice, 'ma'am'."

"Don't start. It should be enough that I'm up here doing this little chore. No need to be so snappy."

"Get used to disappointment."

Sally turns away from her roommate. She walks to the window. Even in the daytime, the view of Toronto is incredible. She puts her hand to the glass.

The dark-haired woman regards her companion with derision; she shakes her head and scoffs. At that moment, a cell-phone rings. She heads for the bathroom. The door closes.

Sally looks out sadly. "Oh, Josh."

(...the bathroom...)

She pushes a button and puts the device to her ear.

"Yeah?"

"I trust the two of you are settled in?" It's Landon. She perks up.

"We are." She puts the lid of the toilet down and sits. "I must say you really take care of business."

"I do my best."

She takes out her ID and credit cards. "But these names...Willa Grace. Dede Littleton. Are you serious?"

"I don't know. They just...came to me."

"I'm amazed that you were able to do this; with the credit card and everything."

"It's all in who you know. How do you think I was able to get that info on her kids?"

"Speaking of which, you'd really ice them?"

"I'm shocked. To even think such a thing... I would never hurt her kids...which is to say I would never hurt her kids."

"Ahhh." She looks to the door. "It's just a matter of her doing her job."

"...and of you making sure she's on her best behavior."

"I'm still not sure about her."

"She was good at taking out the unnecessary bits. That's why she was known as 'The Cutter'. You worry too much, Sheila. You should relax." She smiles. "I'll be in touch." She pushes the 'off' button.

(...the Renton home...a couple of hours later...)

For Ron, nothing said a worthwhile waste of time quite like hanging out with Felix and playing video games. Even when he was losing...like now, for instance, he's all about having fun.

"Die, vampire piggies!"

Ron's score increases.

"Careful there, Ron. One might think that you enjoy this a little too much."

"You never know when I might have to face a few vampire pigs." He flexes a little. "Gotta be prepared."

Looking up from the table, Rufus groans a bit.

Felix laughs a bit. "Right. It's too bad Kim's not into this. It might be fun seeing what she could do."

"Yeah". Ron turns back to the game. He hits 'pause'. "Do you know what she said the other day?"

"What?"

"That I had no manners. Just because I wouldn't make nice with Josh Mankey." He practically spits out the name. "You know who I'm talking about?"

"Uh, yeah. You mention him every so often. Now, I haven't met him, but he can't be as bad as you make him out."

"That's just what Kim says."

"Ron, can we get back to the game? I'm not through beating you."

"Fine." The game is unpaused and is resumed. More vampire pigs bite the virtual big one.

Ron's eyes don't leave the screen. "I'm not jealous of Josh."

"I know, Ron."

"Kim can do what she wants."

"I know."

More game play ensues.

"This is no big--"

"Ron, don't make me throw you out."

"Sorry."