I’m close to falling asleep when I hear noises coming from out in the living room. He must have hustled to be back here this soon. I’m not sure I’m up to a repeat performance just yet.
This sees me getting out of bed and pulling on the toweling robe I’d kept from the poolside shoot. I sashay out into the living room because, while I need a break before we continue our love fest, I don’t want to look like a slob, either.
“Wow, you were…”
The room’s empty. That’s weird. This has me standing stock still in the middle of the room, my ears alert to the slightest sound. There it is, again.
It’s coming from the kitchenette, and yet with the panel open I can see Wyatt isn’t in there. Eeek, don’t tell me we’ve got mice. Or worse, rats. This has me inching my way over to the opening in the panel work.
A quick check inside the kitchenette and I see nothing out of the ordinary, like little footprints on the counter.
I’m on my way back to bed when I’m grabbed from behind and a cloth stuffed over my mouth hard enough to mash my lips against my teeth.
* * *
My mind takes time catching up with my surroundings. I’m in the back of a van, I’m tied up tight, and there’s a ball of cloth stuffed in my mouth.
Whatever Ralph had used to knock me out isn’t helping my ability to process. I’m still at a loss to know how he sneaked up on me like he had. The villa wasn’t exactly awash with hiding spaces.
Hoping to get rid of the gag, I roll onto my side. This has my face hard up against my suitcase, telling me that Ralph plans on keeping me with him. As thoughts of him forcing me to wear the skimpy underwear in my suitcase flare, my panic rises, and I’m left choking on the gag.
Hard as I try, I can’t get rid of the thing, with my breathing panicky in response. It takes several slow, measured breaths through my nose to calm down enough that I don’t risk passing out.
I’ll need my wits about me if I’m to get through this. With that in mind, I lay there quietly, totting up what I know.
I’m in a van.
It’s not moving.
I’m still in my toweling robe.
Best of all, I’m alone.
That soon changes.
WYATT
Back at the villa, the first thing I see is the note sitting on the coffee table. It’s on hotel stationery, and the writing is appalling.
While trying to make sense of it, I check the bedroom, and sure enough, Phoebe’s bag has gone. It’s the same thing in the bathroom, with all her toiletries and make-up missing.
I can’t believe she’s left. I thought we had something together, even if my feelings were stronger than expected given our brief acquaintance. Sad doesn’t describe my current mood. My world is lackluster, missing the spark that was Phoebe.
Back in the living room, I see something that has my blood freezing in my veins. No matter how much of a hurry Phoebe was in, she’d never have left her collection of family photos behind.
Her ability to settle in like she did was a major draw card for me. It had been the same with my mom. Every flea-pit motel and apartment we landed at, she’d unpack the knick-knacks she insisted turned a house into a home. The same knick-knacks she’d repack when dad worked out where we were.
This has me re-reading the note, the words easier to grasp a second time around.
Babe
Landed big job in LA.
Can’t say no. Gotta rush.
I had fun. Be good
As a goodbye note, it sucks big time. And what’s with the pet name? It was my name she screamed when she came, not Babe. And anyway, she always said it sounded like that pig from the movie.
