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Frank Bronski lay on his bed staring at possible water stains on the ceiling in a no tell motel on the edge of town. He actually couldn’t see the ceiling because he was lying in the dark but there were always water stains on the ceiling in these places. Frank had always used the term “no tell motel” because that was just the hard boiled thing to do. Actually the hard boiled term would be flophouse but even Frank had his standards. Motel had more class.
He never worried if anyone knew he was at one of these joints because there was never anything to tell. He stayed at them because the price point was always right, cheap. This time however he cared if a particular person knew he was here which is why he was laying in the dark. The big problem was the he didn’t know who that person was. He had not figured out who was attached to the voice yelling “I thought I recognized that SOB”. Given his past the possibilities were endless.
The term “endless” was a bit of an exaggeration. There was a theft involved and he was the victim. Unfortunately the stolen merchandise was only his for the short time it would take to turn it into cash for the rightful owner, minus his small cut of course. In this case the rightful owner was beholding to someone else and that someone else was also beholding to someone else and so on…yea he probably had a lot of people looking for him. It was the reason why he left town in the first place.
With the legalization of marijuana in Colorado he made the mistake in thinking he could come back with no problems. He wasn’t a very good drug dealer. In fact he really hadn’t been a good hood (criminal) in general so why not try the other side for a while. He pulled out his notepad and pencil from his coat. Given the amount of people that could be after him it would probably be a good idea to make a list and see if he could narrow down the suspects.
“I am not sure you have time for that,” boomed a voice from the corner of the room.
“Crap, Who is it ,” asked Frank into the darkness.
“Answer me this. Is there anyone you know in this town that can get into your hotel room unseen that would waste time on conversation instead of killing you?”
“Um, you do have a point, no. Are you the shadow?”
“For lack of a better label, yes”
“What did you mean by ‘not sure you have time for that?’ ”
Those gentlemen that were “interested” in you earlier are on their way here as we speak.
“Crap, I thought the desk clerk looked familiar.”
“Now is not the time but at some point we really should discuss who are these people and why are they so interested in you.”
“Yes, later, when I figure it out myself. For now just call it bad career choices. What the heck do I do now? There is no dumpster in here.”
“Is there a window in the bathroom?”
“Of course. I am new to the detective gig but not new to laying low.
I always have an exit plan.”
“Oh and what is your plan?”
“To go out through the bathroom window.”
“Brilliant, I’ll meet you outside.”
Frank looked around but the shadow was gone.
He took his cue and crawled through the bathroom window.
Immediately upon hitting the ground he heard “Psst over here.”
Frank thought he saw the shadow near a telephone exchange box.
“Where is the dumpster,” asked Frank.
“It’s not always a dumpster. This time it’s this old PBX box that hasn’t been functional in years.”
Frank shook his head, opened up the small door to the PBX box and crawled in. Everything went dark.
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