Kiss of Death Page 0,34

open and read the text. "Oliver says to stop here. He'll join us in about another hour."

"You are kidding."

"Hey, you're the one who had to have the ice cream. Look what kind of trouble we got ourselves into. At least this way we're safe in a room with a door that locks. And the sign says they have HBO."

"That stands for Horrible Bloody Ohmygod," Eve said. "Which is the way they kill you. When you think you're safe."

"Eve! " Claire was starting to get creeped out, too. Eve put her hands up, briefly, then back down to the wheel. "Fine," she said. "Don't say I didn't warn you, while we're all screaming and crying. And I'm sleeping in my clothes. With a stake in both hands."

"It's probably not run by vampires."

"First, you wanna bet?" Eve hit the brakes and put the car in park. "Second, sharp pointy things tend to work on everything else, too. Including cannibals running creepy motels." They sat in silence as the engine ticked and cooled, and finally Shane cleared his throat. "Right. So, we're going in?"

"We could stay in the car."

"Yeah, that's safe."

"At least we can see them coming. And also run." Claire sighed and got out of the car, walked into the small office, and hit the bell on the counter. It seemed really, really loud. She heard doors slamming behind her--Shane, Michael, and Eve finally bailing out. The office was actually nicer than the outside of the building, with carpet that was kind of new, comfortable chairs, even a flat-screen TV playing on the wall with the sound turned off. The place smelled like ... warm vanilla. Out of the back room came an older lady with graying hair tied back in a ponytail. Claire couldn't imagine anyone looking less like a serial killer, actually--she looked like a classic grandma, even down to the small, round glasses. She was wiping her hands on a dish towel and was wearing an apron over blue jeans and a checked shirt. "Help you, honey?" she asked, and put the towel down. She looked a little nervous as the others came in behind her. "Y'all need a room?"

"Yes ma'am," Claire said softly. Michael and Shane were doing their best to look like nice boys, and Eve was, well, Eve. Smiling. "Maybe two, if they're not too expensive?"

"Oh, they're not expensive," the lady said, and shook her head. "Ain't exactly the Hilton, you know. Thirty-five dollars a night, comes with breakfast in the morning. I make biscuits and sausage gravy, and there's coffee. Some cereal. Ain't fancy, but it's good food." Michael stepped up, signed the book, and counted out cash. She read the register upside down. "Glass? You from around here?"

"No ma'am," he said. "We're just passing through. Heading for Dallas."

"What the hell possessed you to come all the way out here?" she asked. "Never mind; glad you did. Fresh sheets and towels in the rooms, soaps, some complimentary shampoo. You need anything, you just call. You kids have a good night. Oh, and no hell-raising. We may be outside of town, but I know the sheriff personally. He'll make a special trip."

"Why does everybody think we're so insane?" Eve asked, and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, we're nice. Not everybody our age rolls with anarchy."

"You would, if anarchy offered free ice cream," Michael said. He accepted the two keys and smiled. "Thank you, ma'am--"

"Name's Linda," the lady interrupted. "Ma`am was my mother. Though I guess I'm old enough now to be ma'am to you folks, more's the pity. You go on. Let me finish up my baking. You stop back later. I'll have fresh chocolate chip cookies." Eve's mouth dropped open. Even Michael looked impressed. "Uh--thanks," he said, and they retreated out to the parking lot, staring at one another. "She's making cookies."

"Yeah," Shane said. "Terrifying. So, how are we doing this thing?"

"Girls get their own room," Eve said, and plucked one of the keys out of Michael's hand. "Oh, come on, don't give me that face. You know that's the right thing to do."

"Yeah, I know," Michael said. "Looks like they're right next door to each other." They were, rooms one and two, with a connecting door between. Inside, the rooms--like Linda's office--were really pretty nice. Claire checked out the bathroom; it was nicer than the one at home--and cleaner. "Hey, Eve?" she called, sticking her head around the door. "Should I be terrified now, or later?"

"Shut up," Eve said, and flopped on one of the