Once Cold

He looked at her drink, which was almost empty. It looked like a margarita. He pointed to the glass and said very loudly, “Care for another?”

Still smiling, the woman named Tilda shook her head no.

But she wasn’t brushing him off. He felt sure of that. Was it time for a bold move?

He reached for a cocktail napkin and took a pen out of his shirt pocket.

He wrote on the cocktail napkin …

Care to go somewhere else?

She looked at the message. Her smile broadened. She hesitated for a moment, but he sensed that she was here looking for a thrill. And she seemed pleased to have found one.

Finally, to his delight, she nodded.

Before they left, he picked up a matchbook with the name of the bar.

He would need it later.

He helped her into her coat and they walked outside. The cool spring air and sudden quiet was startling after the noise and heat.

“Wow,” she said as she walked along with him. “I almost went deaf in there.”

“I take it you don’t hang out there a lot,” he said.

“No,” she said.

She didn’t elaborate, but he was sure that this was the first time she’d ever been to the Patom Lounge.

“Me neither,” he said. “What a dive.”

“You can say that again.”

“What a dive,” he said.

They both laughed.

“That’s my car over there,” he said, pointing. “Where would you like to go?”

She hesitated again.

Then, with an impish twinkle in her eye, she said, “Surprise me.”

Now he knew that his earlier guess was correct. She really had come here looking for a thrill.

Well, so had he.

He opened the passenger door of his car, and she climbed inside. He got behind the wheel and started to drive.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

With a smile and a wink, he replied, “You said to surprise you.”

She laughed. Her laughter sounded nervous but pleased.

“I take it you live here in Greybull,” he said.

“Born and bred,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Do you live somewhere around here?”

“Not far away,” he said.

She laughed again.

“What brings you to this boring little town?”

“Business.”

She looked at him with a curious expression. But she didn’t press the issue. Apparently she wasn’t very interested in getting to know him. That suited his purposes just fine.

He pulled into the parking lot of a dingy little motel called the Maberly Inn. He parked in front of room 34.

“I’ve already rented this room,” he said.

She said nothing.

Then, after a short silence, he asked, “Is this OK with you?”

She nodded a little nervously.

They went into the room together. She looked around. The room had a musty, disagreeable odor, and the walls were decorated with ugly paintings.

She walked to the bed and pressed her hand on the mattress, checking its firmness.

Was she displeased with the room?

He wasn’t sure.

The gesture made him angry – furiously angry.

He didn’t know why, but something inside him snapped.

Normally he wouldn’t strike until he had her naked on the bed. But now he couldn’t help himself.

As she turned around to head for the bathroom, he blocked her way.

Her eyes widened with alarm.

Before she could react further, he pushed her backward onto the bed.