She looked to be in her sixties. Her long, curly hair was a mix of blonde and gray. She’d pulled most of it back away from her face and clipped small brown feathers onto the waves in front of her shoulder.
Her yellow sleeveless shirt had the logo of a honky tonk printed across it.
“Brogan? Is it Brogan?” She leaned closer.
She shouldn’t be able to see me through the peephole, but she looked right at me.
“I asked Julie at the desk, and she said a tall hunk of a man had checked in, and there you are! I have a flyer. For you. You and Lula.”
She dug in a satchel hanging off one shoulder and produced a paper, which she waved.
“Limited time deal. You don’t want to miss this.”
How did she know our names? We never used our real names when checking in to hotels.
“We’re not interested,” I said.
Abbi made a little sound, and the woman tipped her head.
“It will only take a minute, I promise. You’ll be doing me a favor, really. I don’t have to bring people to the bar, but I do have to give away all of the flyers. It isn’t a big town, Mr. Gauge, and we overprinted our flyers by a lot.” She shook the satchel. “A great lot.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Still not interested.”
“Did I mention ice cream? The best in a hundred miles.”
“Ice cream?” Abbi whispered.
“Buy one and you get an extra scoop for free,” the woman said.
“Two scoops?” Abbi rocked up onto her toes, every inch of her absolutely straining toward the door. “Ice cream, Brogan,” she hiss-whispered. “Half of it’s free! I’ll share.”
“You don’t have to share,” the woman said. “I can give each of you a flyer. I can give each of youtwoflyers.”
Abbi had been whispering. Either the motel door was made of paper, or the woman had unnatural hearing. Supernatural hearing.
“Do you know her?” I asked Abbi.
“I’ve heard her before. She’s nice. I think she worships me.” She gave me a huge grin.
“Worships you.”
“Or the moon,” she said.
“So, she’s not a vampire, a monster, a god?” I asked.
“No?”
“Why can she hear us through the door?”
“Probably magic,” she said. “Or the door is really thin. She’s not bad, Brogan. I’ve heard her before. She’s nice. She won’t hurt us. I promise.”
I sighed and opened the door.
The woman jerked back and pressed fingers to her chest. “My goodness.”
“What are you?” I demanded.
“A local citizen? Well, I work here, but I live up the road a bit. I’m supposed to handle the marketing, but you can see how that’s going.”
