Fear Thy Neighbor (11)
Alison pushed the memories to the back of her mind where they belonged. Rarely did she allow herself to indulge in remembering the horrors of her childhood. Sitting here in this miserable heat, she’d had nothing better to do while she waited for Betty to return. Alison would find a pay phone and call a locksmith if the old lady wasn’t back in half an hour. She had no clue where she’d find a pay phone, as they were rarely used these days. If she didn’t locate a phone, she would return to the dollar store in the shopping plaza, where she’d purchased her cat supplies. If they had cell phones, she’d break her own rule and purchase one, in case she ever caught herself in another situation like this. This was frigging bull. Dying for a drink of water and a cup of coffee, she decided to walk to the dollar store now. She wouldn’t dare leave her luggage behind. Dragging the old beat-up suitcase behind her, Alison had walked almost a mile when a yellow cab slowed down beside her.
“Hey there, missy,” said Betty from the front passenger seat of the cab. “Climb on in.”
Alison slid into the back seat, her luggage beside her. Her heart raced; she was beyond angry. “What the hell happened to my gun? My cats? They were in my room last night. Someone rifled through my luggage. Is this the kind of shit that goes on at your place? Did you steal my car keys, too?” Alison was enraged by the sheer audacity of this woman, picking her up in a taxi, acting as though this was all normal.
“Now, now, Alison, calm down.”
The taxi pulled into the parking spot reserved for the office. “Need help bringing in your groceries?” the taxi driver asked Betty.
“No, Tank, Alison can help me, but thanks. I’ll see you next week,” said Betty as she hustled her bulk out of the passenger seat.
“You stay in touch,” he said to her.
Alison watched the old woman take three paper bags from the trunk.
“You gonna help or what?”
“I shouldn’t,” Alison said, yanking one of the bags from her. No way in hell would she let her luggage out of her sight.
Betty managed both paper sacks, then fiddled in her pocket for the keys, opening the door to the office. Alison stepped inside and dropped the bag on the counter. “Where are my cats? The keys and my gun? No one else had access to my room but you. I’ll give you five seconds to tell me, or I’m calling the police.”
“Okay, don’t be so impatient. Follow me.” Betty opened the door to the residence area.
“No, let me have my keys, gun, and my animals.” No way would she follow this old woman again. She’d ingested something that made her feel like she’d drunk a gallon of whiskey; she wasn’t going to make a second mistake.
Betty didn’t say a word. Three minutes later, she emerged from the back room and handed Alison the keys to her Jeep and the gun. Alison popped the clip to make sure it was still loaded. “Out of curiosity, what gave you the right to remove these from my room?”
“You were so sick—I’m not sure what it was, but you had a fever. I gave you aspirin and took your temperature. I was concerned about you being in such a fevered state and didn’t want you driving. I saw the gun and your three cats. I thought it best to let you sleep off whatever you had, and I’d return them later. People do crazy things when they’re burning up with a fever. I assumed you’d still be asleep, so I went to the store for some eggs and bacon. I wanted to send you off with a good breakfast, that’s all. No need to get angry,” Betty told her.
“Who ransacked my luggage?” Alison tucked the gun in the waistband of her shorts and then checked her keys. She had four keys with a keychain in the shape of a bright green taco from Besito’s. They were all there. Briefly, she had the thought that Betty could’ve made copies of her keys. But maybe she’d overreacted. She’d always been wary of strangers.
“I searched for a nightgown but didn’t find one, so I just left you in your shorts. You were terribly sweaty.”
This old woman had an answer for everything. “I guess I should thank you for taking care of me and my animals last night, though I don’t ever get sick. It must’ve been too much sugar in those cookies.”
Betty shook her head. “I suppose it could’ve been, but I ate my share of them, too. I think you just had a twenty-four-hour bug.”
“And where are my cats?”
“Sleeping in the back room,” Betty said, gesturing behind her. “I figured you were too sick to look after them last night.”
“Then thanks, for everything,” she said. “I’ll be on my way as soon as I load up my animals.”
As Alison turned away from the counter, Betty shouted at her.
“Wait!”
She turned around. “What?”
“You stayed past noon. You owe me another thirty dollars; plus, you lied about having only one cat. I’ll have to keep your deposit for the pillow.”
“Are you frigging serious?” She didn’t give a hoot about the deposit, just that the old woman was brazen enough to say all this.
“Checkout time is at noon. I’m sure I told you that.”
Not wanting to stay another minute, Alison took a twenty and two tens out of her wallet and tossed them on the counter. As soon as she had the animals and the items she’d bought for them in the back of the Jeep, she returned to the office with the pillow. “Have a nice freaking day,” she said, then tossed the pillow over the counter, as well.