The End Of Desire: A Rowan Gant Investigation by M. R. Sellars Read Free Book Online

even looked pretty convincing given
the short distance between it and me. It wouldn’t stand up to any
manner of scrutiny, that much was for certain, but if it was just a
quick flash it might work.
    “Ya’ okay over dere, cap?” the man called
out.
    “Yeah,” I answered and, realizing I’d been
staring at the toy just a bit too long, offered up an explanation.
“I just dropped a creamer, and I didn’t want to leave a mess over
here for you to have to deal with.”
    “Dere ya’ go,” he replied, a thankful note in
his voice.
    I sighed and looked away from the toy rack
then muttered a personal admonishment under my breath as I stood,
“Yeah Gant, impersonating a cop. That’d be really bright, wouldn’t
it?”
    Stepping back over to the low counter, I
finished adding the creamers to the cup then poured in the just
finished coffee on top. I was happy to see that it blended to a
milky brown instead of the sickly grey I’d faced before at other
such establishments.
    Wandering over to the checkout stand, I
placed the cup on the counter then dug in my pocket for my
wallet.
    “Dat gonna be two-sixty,” the man told
me.
    I tossed three ones in front of him.
    “You gotta silvuh dime?” he asked.
    I shoved a hand into my pocket in search of
the change but found nothing but the car keys and the crumpled
pages from the phone book.
    “No, sorry,” I offered with a shake of my
head. “Don’t worry about it. Just keep the change.”
    “Awrite,” he replied, giving me a quick
nod.
    I picked up my coffee and started for the
door but halted as the thought of the phonebook pages in my pocket
began bludgeoning my grey matter. Then, without thinking anything
through, I seized on one of the names I remembered seeing, turned
back to face the man, and said, “Mind if I ask you something? I
just drove in and I’m looking for the Keys Motel?”
    “Dat’s no problem,” he replied, pointing past
me. “Ya’ jus’ go down Airline a coupl’a miles and dere it is.”
    “Great, thanks,” I offered with a weak smile
then let out a nervous chuckle which I’m sure was more a product of
the lie I was telling than any sort of acting skill. On the heels
of the laugh I added, “You know, I heard there was a weird murder
that happened there recently. You hear anything about that?”
    “Naw, somebody told ya’ wrong on dat,” he
told me, shaking his head and jerking his thumb in the opposite
direction. “Da’ murder happened ovuh for da’ Suthun Hosp’tality.
Dat’s back up da’ road.”
    “Really?” I returned with a nod. “My wife
will be glad to hear that. The story kind of spooked her a bit, you
know.”
    “Yeah, you rite.”
    Adrenalin instantly dumped into my system,
and my fatigue momentarily fled, along with anything I had that
might have resembled good sense. I should have turned and left
right then and there, but the impulse that had made me ask the
questions was stuck in overdrive, and it didn’t care what trouble I
might be making for myself. Instead I headed back in the direction
of the coffee counter, my sights set on the toy rack as the lie
took on another layer.
    “F’get somethin’?” the man asked.
    “Sort of,” I said over my shoulder. “I saw
something over here I think my kid would really like.”
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER 4:
     
     
    T rue to what the man at
the gas station had told me, the Southern Hospitality Motor Lodge
was just up the road. Its lighted sign became apparent shortly
after I pulled back onto the main thoroughfare, and within moments
I was swinging into the almost full parking lot. Once I found a
space and nosed my car into it, I shut off the lights, then the
engine, and proceeded to visually scan the front of the small
motel.
    From the outside, it definitely fit the image
I had in my head as the kind of place Annalise would select for a
kill. It looked clean but far enough out of date to be a throwback
to the mid 1960’s, perhaps even earlier. I suspected the