A flame from the past

As John glanced about, something sparkled on the ground four feet to his right. A blue sort of sparkle... peering closer, he recognized a woman's earring. It looked to be a sapphire stud, likely a fake sapphire judging by the surroundings. He recalled that the woman had had ears lined with piercings... had any of these been hers?

He moves over and squats down to pick it up. Holding it in his hands and letting his cigarette hang from his lips, he looked to see if there were any obvious clues as to where the woman would have gone. He would like the opportunity to return it to her.


2010-07-05 06:27:19 John Markham rolled 5 dice to "Perception" 9,1,7,3,4 (1 successes)

"That's not important." Rick ignored the question. "We were told to meet her here." He ignores the fact that the man denies seeing her and they have a text claiming otherwise.

"So we'll take a room."
He fishes out some twenties and drops it in the slot. "You'll let her know we're here if she arrives."
The bell man counted the money and doled out Room 10 to Rick, not committing to anything. "You can drop by here later, I'll let you know if she comes in. You might see her yourselves, you can see we're a small place."

---

Looking around, John notes a second glittering piece of jewelry. This one is delicately posed under the lip of the door to room 11, the room adjacent to his own.

John picks up the earring and places it with the other one making it a pair. He knocked on the door firmly. It's now or never, Markham thought.

"Pardon me," he said loudly. "I think you dropped something outside your door."

John receives no answer from the woman, presuming that room 11 is her room at all. Instead, the room within seems quiet. No sounds of television, conversation or reply to him through the door.

From where he stands, he can see the two men receive a room key at the reception window.

[John & Tom, roll Perception]

John listen closely at the door.

Spoiler:

It was odd that an earring would be slightly under the door. It could have been because it was kicked under it, but there weren't that many people around. This had to be the room. He unzipped his jacket, making it slightly easier to get his pistol, should it become needed.

Tom sighed. Where the hell was Christie so he could dump Rick on her? He'd had enough of both their crap for today already, and hanging out in a motel that probably had an hourly wait wasn't his idea of a good time. At least not when it was with another man.

Spoiler:

The two of you notice that the rest stop across the street suddenly offers a 'closed' sign. A young man wearing a wrinkled green shirt with the gas station logo on it wanders out, followed by another. Both men start across the street towards the hotel. As they near, they scrutinize the three men closely.

Without a word, the two men open the door to the hotel reception and walk in. The well dressed hotel manager turns and greets them, turning his back on Rick and Tom.
"Hey Cole, Nate..." The man moves away from the reception window and spoke to the two men further into the reception office, out of sight.

John hears something from within the room. Its the tell tale insistent beeping of a cell phone about to die. It whines on unheeded by any occupant.

Tom hears an angered exclamation from within the office- there's no mistaking it from Christie. He'd heard her demands often enough in that tone. The three men laugh and it has a rough, cruel streak to it.

Shit, that sounded like Christie. Was there actually something to the paranoid bullshit? Tom gave Rick a pointed look and nodded towards the office door that the other two men and the hotel manager had passed through. Taking hold of the knob he swung the door open forcefully and pushed his way inside towards where he'd heard Christie's voice.

"Excuse me, but you forgot to tell us where the vending machines are located" he called out as he surveyed the office.

As Tom opened the door, he saw that the room opened into a narrow seating area with three or so dinged, banged up chairs that looked as though they may break if you sit on them. A doorway leads to a small, cluttered office that is partially obscured from the lobby where a desk is covered by various papers, including a hotel ledger.
Tom hears a shrill shriek and a soft sound of a woman being struck. Was it Christie? It sounded like her!

Yet as he barged in, the sound suddenly stopped, completely. He faced the two strangers in the green gas station shirts who smelled strongly of gas, B.O. and cheetos. There was no sign of the hotel manager. Odd, in this small, crowded room. He hadn't seen any one leave through the door...

"Hey, you're not supposed to be in here." The taller man protested. He was about twenty pounds overweight with oily, stringy dark hair. The second man was as fit as the first was fat, with neatly trimmed blonde hair. "There are none of those things. You gotta buy from us."

"You don't look like a hotel employee either." He looked around wondering where the hotel manager had disappeared to.

Spoiler:

"No, I don't work here. I work across the street. You buy food and stuff from us. But we're closed right now..."

Glancing around the office, Tom gathered that organization wasn't a priority here. He could spot a ledger- but no one had made him or Rick sign in. So maybe policies were lax or nonexistent. Either way, it didn't speak well for a good nights' relaxation.

As he looked over by the desk, he noticed that the carpet behind the desk looked lighter in color and cleaner, while the rest of the carpet was covered in dirt, pieces of paper and receipts.

Tom's gaze fell on the irregular section of the carpet. No way, that shit only happened in movies.

"Yeah, I'll drop by to pick up a Coke later. Where'd the manager go? I need him to validate my parking."

"Shit, we don't validate parking. Just park your damn car. Now we have to do some ...cleaning... so go park your car." The man added "sir." As an afterthought.

Tom squared his jaw. He'd had enough pretense with the two yokels. "I need to speak to the manager, and then you can do your cleaning."

"He ain't here right now. We'll let you know when he gets back. You're room 10, right."
The fit man elbows the taller one who hastily replies. "I mean, like 12. Those are the only keys gone. Or nine."

"I watched all three of you walk back here and I was standing in front of the only door out. I haven't huffed enough diesel fumes to believe 'he ain't here right now, bro."

He stepped further into the room and nudged the edge of the cleaner patch of carpetting with the toe of his boot.

As Tom nudged the suspect area with his foot, the more fit, silent man exploded forward. He shoved Tom roughly away from the desk.

Spoiler:

Tom found himself propelled back against the door jam of the office door, which gave him a pained tweak in his back.

"Get out!" The taller man shouted. He puffed up as though he, too, would be ready to fight Tom, but with his paunch it made him look ridiculous. The shorter, violent man stared at Tom, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Tom kept a grimace off his face as the door handle gave him a sharp jab in the kidneys. His fists clenched and he moved back into the room and into the slender man's face.

"Touch me again and see what happens, asshole," he growled. He stomped heavily on the carpeted area, attempting to listen for any indication that there might be a trap door or basement underneath the office.

As his foot stomps down, there's definitely something odd. Something hard underneath there. It certainly could be a secret access point- or, as his mind remembered how those old houses were built, a hatch that swung outwards.

"You're not supposed to be in here! Maybe we'll have Chen kick you out of your room when he gets back, huh?"

The men are agitated now, moving in to stand at Tom's back. The taller man looks frustrated, out of his element. The quiet man appears to be seething, a slow burning kettle about to let off steam.

Tom pivoted so he could keep the two buffoons in sight while crouching down. "Good idea," he said as he felt for the edge of the carpet to take hold of and yank away. "Why don't we get him up here right now so he can do that?

Spoiler:

"What the fuck!" The taller man exploded, smashing his hand into the desk. Papers fluttered down to the ground. The heavier ledger fell and clunked open, listing scrawled little names. "Oh, that is it!"

Instead of moving towards Tom, he stalked out of the office completely, angrily muttering as he passed Rick.

"Shut up, asshole." Rick enters the lobby, blocking the door out with his massive- if bruised- frame. The man who had exited shoots him a worried look, hurrying away. Rick stared the shorter, blond man down for a beat, glancing at Tom on the floor with confusion.
"What you thinks going on, man?"

The smaller man, however, doesn't change expressions at all. It's odd how fighting two strapping - O.K. Rick looked like shit, but he was still large- firefighters didn't seem to phase this gas station attendant while his friend had bailed on him.

As Tom felt around the carpet, he found one piece that didn't quite lie flat. Lifting it revealed that it was cut from the rest of the floor, making it an odd, carpet flap handle. Beneath the lifted flap, a wooden hinge could be seen.

Had he actually found a trap door beneath the desk?

"I heard Christie back here," Tom replied as he scrutinized the hinge. "We both saw the manager come back here with him and his buddy," he said nodding to the sullen station attendant. "I don't think he's Harry fuckin' Houdini, so I'd guess there's some kind of hatch down here. One this asshole didn't want me to find."

He began to run his fingertips out along the hinges, feeling for the edge of the hatch or a handle that would allow him to open it.

John hears the commotion and reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the fake Cop badge as he walks into the office.

"What seems to be the problem in here," he said holding up the badge.

Running his hands along the carpet tab, Tom found that by lifting it, there was some resistance. Gripping the carpet tab and pulling caused the oddly colored carpeted tab to lift up completely. The box - shaped opening was a bit narrow, barely enough room for a man's shoulders to clear. Absolute blackness stared back at Tom, a distinct feeling that there was a drop beneath him...

"Hey, a law man!" Rick announced loudly at John's approach, giving Tom a meaningful look.

The little man startled at John's approach, then rolled his eyes. "You know Louis? Louis knows about our little cellar storage shed."