Chapter Eleven: Blair's Call
Earlier that afternoon, Poppy Anne sat inside a small interrogation room of the New York State Police Department across from Rollins. She tapped her fingers nervously on the table as she watched Rollins along with a young black woman, sit across from her.
"Mind if I smoke?" Poppy Anne asked Rollins.
Rollins shrugged. "Not at all, P.A," he said. "Now, we need your help. This is Violet. She's a sketch artist from Tisch and a damn good one."
The two woman exchanged brief pleasantries.
"So…from your own memory, P.A, tell Violet here everything you know about the two women you met yesterday."
Poppy Anne reached into her purse and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. She lit it and put the cigarette between her lips, puffing.
"Well…" she began.
"Time for a pit stop, Blair," Jo announced, stopping the car in front of a small town country store. "Get out."
Blair stretched. "Where are we?" She asked.
"Search me. I just need to see if they have a phone. Ya need anything?"
Blair grimaced, looking at the old, ramshackle building. It looks like it's being held up with toothpicks, she thought.
She then sighed, whimpering. Swallow your pride, Blair. You've come this far. You even checked into a fleabag motel, for goodness sake!
"Fine," she said. "Hopefully their food isn't as old as this building looks."
She stepped out of the car and closed the door.
The two women stepped inside. In front of them, was an old man with white hair, wearing an old flannel shirt.
'''Scuse me? Do ya happen to have a phone?" Jo asked him.
"Oh, it's outside, right 'round the back. Right near the restrooms, ma'am," he told her, pointing.
"Thanks," Jo said, giving the man a polite smile. She then turned to Blair. "Alright. See ya in a few, Blair. Just gonna make a phone call," Jo said to her.
Blair, who was deeply engrossed and fascinated in jars of pickled pigs' feet and rubber worms the store sold, waved absentmindedly to Jo.
Jo quickly ducked out of the store and ran to the back of the store.
She spotted the phone and reached into her jean pockets for change. She inserted the money into the phone and dialed her home phone number back.
Please, Rick, pick up the phone, she thought anxiously. She breathed a sigh of relief when he answered.
"Jo!" He exclaimed.
"Is that how ya answer the phone?" She asked.
"Sorry. I got it. I was afraid I'd missed you. I almost couldn't get a check cashed. It's Saturday, you know," Rick replied.
"Who did it?" Jo asked curiously.
"Uh, he's a friend of mine. Randy Webster. He owns a club here in town. I think you'd know him if you saw him. His sister Cindy went to your school, I think."
"Oh," Jo said, biting her lip. She remembered Cindy from her Eastland days but she didn't remember her brother.
"Oh…Ya didn't tell him what the check was for, did ya?" She asked him cautiously.
"No, I didn't," Rick replied. "I told him I was going to buy a car. But just what is it for?"
Jo smiled in relief. "Good," she said, choosing to ignore his last question. "That was good. Where do I go?" She then asked.
"Uh, it's a place called Charlie's Motel. The address is 1405 North East 24. It's under your name," he informed her.
"And what's the mysterious code word?" Jo asked.
"Peaches," Rick answered.
Jo wasn't sure she'd heard right. "What?" she asked.
"That's the code word. I really miss you, Peaches," Rick said to her.
Jo made a face, rolling her eyes. Really? She thought. I guess it's sorta romantic and sweet although I think I would've preferred 'Kawasaki' better.
"Uh, thanks, Rick," she said, quickly hanging up the phone.
I can't believe there used to be a time when I actually wanted to hear from him and now I can't wait until I'm off the phone with him, she thought, shaking her head.
Blair set the items she had finally settled on buying on the counter in front of the old man; beef jerky and some gum. While waiting for him to ring her up, she spotted some tiny bottles of Southern Comfort. She grabbed one and put it on the counter.
Am I overdoing it with this stuff? She pondered. She then scoffed. Oh, what the hell! Blair then grabbed the entire display and placed them on the counter along with a tiny bottle of Cuervo.
"Uh, ma'am…wouldn't you like to buy the economy size bottle?" He asked her, pointing to it on the shelf.
Blair glanced at it, shaking her head. The old man shrugged and continued ringing up her purchases.
After he was done and she paid him, she picked up her bag and walked outside. Jo was waiting for her, sitting on the hood of her car.
"Oh, good. Ya back," Jo replied. "Ya gonna call Casey."
"Call him?" Blair asked, grimacing.
"Yep. Call him. And don't tell him anythin'. Just tell him ya havin' a good time and ya gonna be home tomorrow night."
"But will I be?" Blair asked.
Jo shrugged. "I don't know," she answered. "I know I won't be."
Blair bit her lip, meeting eyes with Jo. So if I agree to go back with Casey, this means I'll never see Jo again. Could I really, truly live with that?
As Jo walked back inside the store to give Blair privacy, Blair made her way to the back of the store to use the phone. She inserted some change and dialed her house.
"Collect from Blair," she said. "Hello…honey?" She said tentatively as she heard Casey pick up the phone.
She could hear a football game on in the background.
"Goddamnit, Blair! Where in God's name are you?" Casey demanded angrily.
"I'm with Jo," she informed him nervously. "Um…we're in the mountains and uh…we're_"
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Blair?" Casey asked, interrupting her. "Did you lose your damn mind? Is that it? I leave to go to work and you just take complete leave of your senses? I come home and there's no dinner, the place a damn mess…have you lost your goddamn mind, Blair?"
Blair bit her lip. "Now, Casey, please don't get so mad! Please. I can explain," she began.
"Hold on, hold on a minute, dammit." he said, returning to the game. Blair didn't hear him and continued talking.
"We'll only be gone for one more night and then we'll be back tomorrow night," Blair said to him when he returned to the phone after his team fumbled the ball.
"What? No, you won't, Blair! You bring your ass back here TONIGHT. Do you understand me?"
Blair suddenly felt tears well up in her eyes as she remembered Jo's words from Friday afternoon: 'Blair, is that man ya boyfriend or is he ya father?'
"Casey," she replied, taking a deep breath and trying her best not to cry. "You're my boyfriend; not my father."
"That does it, Blair! I knew Jo was a bad influence! If you're not back here tonight…then well…Blair, I just don't want to say."
Blair pursed her lips, not saying a word. Casey was also quiet. So I guess that's it then, Blair thought.
"Casey?" She asked in her sugary-sweet voice, wondering if he was still on the phone.
"What?" He asked.
He's still there. Good.
"Go fucking turn blue," she hissed. She slammed the phone down for good measure.
She whirled around, making her way back to the car, tears clouding her vision. I hate him. I hate him. I fucking hate him. I never want to see him again. How could he? After all I've done for him!
As she stormed back to the car, she accidentally walked right into somebody and grunted loudly as she fell flat on her butt.
"Hey, watch where you're_" She began angrily.
She interrupted herself as she looked up and stared right into the most bluest eyes of the most handsome man she thought she had ever seen.