Iris Johansen - Eve

“Well, I’m not.” Teresa clocked out and was heading for the door. “Thanks, Eve.”

Eve put the cap on the shaker. Don’t look out the window and see whether Teresa had been welcomed by John. Of course, she would be. She was pretty and sexy and very willing. Eve had done the right thing. Soon she wouldn’t have to worry about-

“Eve.” It was Mr. Kimble, frowning as he called her from the kitchen. “Phone call for you. It’s your mother. I’ve told you all that there are rules about receiving calls here unless it is an emergency.”

“Sorry.” She moved quickly toward the phone on the wall. “You know I’ve never gotten one before, Mr. Kimble. There must be some mistake.”

He turned away. “See that it doesn’t happen again.”

“Yes, sir.” She picked up the phone. “Sandra, I can’t talk now. Why did you call me here?”

“He hurt me.” Sandra was sobbing. “I thought Jimmy was such a nice man. We had such a good time. But he hurt me. I’m bleeding, Eve.”

Bleeding?

Eve stiffened. “How did he hurt you, Sandra?”

“He slapped me and cut my lip. And then he punched me in the stomach. Why would he hurt me like that? It wasn’t as if I wasn’t going to let him-but a woman has to be treated with respect.”

“Where are you?”

“A hotel room at the Marriott.”

“Is he still there?”

“No, he said he was going to go out and find a dealer and score some heroin. He said I needed to be sweetened up a little.” She paused. “I’m scared of heroin, Eve. I take other stuff, but I’m scared of heroin.”

“Sandra, why are you calling me? Why don’t you just walk out of there?”

“He locked the door from the outside.”

“How did he do that? Never mind. Call downstairs to the front desk and have them send someone up to let you out.”

“I can’t do that. That would make a fuss, and those security people would be on the lookout for me if I ever came back into the hotel.”

“Then don’t go back.”

“That would be… awkward. There are a lot of nice little get-togethers at these hotels. It would be easier if you just came and got me out.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“How do I know?” Sandra was crying again. “You’re smart. You’re always thinking. Think of a way to get me out of here before he comes back. I don’t like to be hurt. I don’t want to take that heroin, but if he says he’s going to hurt me… Fix it. You owe me, Eve. Find a way to help me.”

Anger and fear were racing through Eve, and she tried to suppress both so that she could think. All Sandra had to do was call the front desk, but she wasn’t about to do it. Typical. She’d rather take a chance on everything working out so that she could have it all.

“I really am bleeding, Eve,” Sandra said. “He didn’t care. He’s not a nice man.”

And if Sandra didn’t get out of there, she was going to risk either a brutal beating or an overdose. “How long has he been gone?”

“I don’t know… it seems like a long time.”

If Sandra was on crack, that could mean anything. Two minutes or two hours.

“What’s your room number?”

“It’s 2012.”

“I’ll come after you. Go to the bathroom and wash your face and try to stop the bleeding.”

“I will. You’ll hurry?”

“I’ll hurry.” She hung up the receiver, and leaned her head against the phone for a moment. She tried to think. Dammit, Sandra, why wouldn’t you just call the desk? But Sandra wasn’t going to do it, so that meant the ball was in Eve’s court.

So get it done.

She whirled and strode toward the front entrance. “I have to go, Mr. Kimble. Emergency…”

A moment later she was running across the street toward John’s car. Teresa was leaning with her elbows on the open window of the passenger door talking to John. She glanced at Eve in surprise as Eve nudged her aside.

“Get out of my way. I’m in a hurry.” Eve jumped in the passenger seat and turned to John. “Take me to the Marriott Hotel.”

“A hotel? That’s too good to be true.” He was studying her expression. “Yes, I’m right, it is too good.” He started the car. “Bye, Teresa, nice talking to you.”

“Yeah.” Teresa was still in the street watching as the Chevy pulled away from the curb.

“Why the Marriott?” John asked as he stopped at the red light on the corner.

“Sandra… my mother is in trouble. Someone beat her up and locked her in the hotel room. I have to get there as quickly as possible.”

“And I had a car.”

“The Marriott is ten or twelve blocks away. Just drop me off, and I’ll take it from there.”

“I know where it is. That fancy downtown Marriott.” He glanced at her. “How badly is she hurt?”

“I don’t know. She wasn’t too coherent. She said she’s bleeding.” She shook her head. “I don’t think that she’s too bad. She wasn’t scared enough to call downstairs to the front desk.” Her lips tightened. “She’d rather have me rescue her again.”

“How many times has it happened?”

“Two or three times. Not like this. Once was at the apartment, a couple times in bars. She’s not a good judge of men. Anyone who has the stuff and is willing to sweet-talk her is enough.”

“You’re angry with her.”

“Yes, this is so stupid. I’m angry and I’m worried and I want her to stop. She’s only a little over thirty. At this rate, she won’t live to forty. She’s selfish and vain and doesn’t care for anyone but herself.” She crossed her arms across her chest, her hands tightly gripping her upper arms to keep from shaking. “I try to hate her, but I can’t do it.” She repeated through set teeth, “I can’t do it.”

“Easy.” John’s hand was on her thigh. “We’ll get her out of this.”

“This time,” Eve said. “What about next time?”

“You can’t keep doing it. You’re not the mother, she is.”

“That doesn’t seem to make any difference,” she said shakily. “And it won’t, until I find a way to hate her. I’m not sure I ever will.”

“Then we’ll just worry about this time.” He pulled up the ramp of the Marriott and parked at the far end. “Leave everything to me. Stay behind me. You look too upset. We don’t want security thinking I’m dragging in an underage girl for sex.”

She got out of the car. “I can handle this myself, John.”

“Stay behind me.” He got out of the car and moved toward the doorman. “We’re just going to run inside and pick up my girlfriend’s mother. Would you keep an eye on my car?”

The doorman frowned as he looked at the shabby vehicle. “You can’t leave that thing parked out here for long.”

“Ten minutes.” John smiled. “I don’t want to make her mother walk far. She had an accident last week.” He was pushing Eve through the revolving doors. “Thanks a lot, buddy.”

He moved Eve quickly through the glittering lobby to the elevators. “Casual,” he said in a low tone. “Smile.”

She smiled with an effort as she got into the elevator. “It’s 2012.”

He pressed the button. “Right.”

“I thought I’d try to find a housekeeping maid to let me into the room.”

“That’s one way.” The elevator stopped, and he nudged her out of the elevator. “It might take time to find one that we can con into unlocking the door. But, you know, I don’t understand how he could lock her in.” He stopped in front of 2012. “At any rate, let’s try my way first.” He bent over the lock. “You’re sure this is the right room? Otherwise, it could prove embarrassing.”

“She said 2012. But no, I’m not sure. I’m never sure with Sandra. What are you doing?”