Page 4 of Black Site

"So tell me how a waitress from a tiny town who barely gets by and has no education whatsoever can speak Russian. I'm all ears, baby."

I lose my temper about halfway through his little speech. I don't have red hair for shits and giggles; I have the fiery temper to go with it. I speak to him and spit the words out hoping he understands what I've said to him.

"What did she say?" he looks to another member of his team, this one is big and dark but has readers perched on his nose and a computer in his lap.

"It's Greek boss. But um, I would rather not say what she just said."

So I switch to Mandarin. Nope still has to ask his man and yet I'm the uneducated one.

"I said you can stick your own dick up your ass as far as it will go. So much for uneducated, huh. I'm done talking to you."

Green eyes narrow behind his lens and for just a second I wonder if he's going to kill me. Instead he keeps asking me questions for the next three hours. I'm late to work, they took my phone when they took my purse and dumped it, so I can't call to tell Marnie I am right outside the inn, being held hostage. Would she even care, these men are her 'friends'? God just once I wish I had someone in my corner. Someone who would care that I didn't make it where I needed to be on time, or took care of the creepers for me, or just wanted to listen to me talk.

I guess these guys want to listen to me talk but I don't think that's what I'm looking for. Although I am sure I could yell spy or some shit like that they would definitely be concerned with where I was at.

They finally let me go and I rush to the front desk and nearly plow into Marnie. Damn it, she doesn't look happy. She looks like she doesn't trust me either now. Wonderful, I try to help a guy out by telling him someone is trying to kill him and I'm the fucking bad guy who might lose her job. I clock in and wait for what I know is coming. She's either going to fire me or she's going to remind me she told me to leave them alone, to pretend they weren't here. She told me not to go around them again.

"Libby," I'm not sure if it's more upsetting getting the quiet voice Marnie uses when she is disappointed or that she knew where I was for the last three hours. She knew where I was and she did nothing to try to stop it. I've always been good at one thing, when life kicks me when I'm down I have the unfortunate ability to be just stubborn enough to stick it out. A lot of that has to do with wrapping myself in temper instead of hurt. I absolutely refuse to let any of these people see me cry. I won't let myself forget what happened. I might have disappointed her but she disappointed me too.

"I warned you not to go back to the cottage. I told you to leave them alone."

"Then maybe you should tell them to fuck off and stay the hell out of my section in the diner. How about that Marnie?" I brush by her so mad my eyeballs nearly vibrate. I turn around and take in her open-mouthed stare. "If he dies it serves him right for acting like an ass. Only he won't, will he, because it seems only good people die leaving everyone stuck with the dicks that are left." I grab towels and make my way to the top floors.

I don't have to do the housekeeping duties, they have someone who comes in to do that depending on how many stay with us depends on how often. But I also can't stay downstairs a minute longer without getting myself fired. Once I am upstairs I take a deep breath and start worrying about my job security since I let my mouth run away with me. Guess not all of the teenager I once was is dead; I still have a smart mouth that is going to get me in so much trouble.

***

Two days later I'm sitting in the front typing a receipt for someone about to check out. Thankfully Marnie must have told the guys what I said because they've not been in the diner since. I feel fucking awful about it too. I even kind of miss seeing them every day and pseudo-flirting with Remy. Not that I will ever admit it.

A shadow falls over me and when I turn around I see the two men from the bus standing at the front desk and feel the bottom drop out of my stomach. Well, damn. I turn on the smile I use for pissed-off people at the diner. I make my way to the counter and pick up the phone as I do.

"Just a moment gentlemen and I will be right with you, I just have to let the people in 2b know it's check-out time." The smile must be working because they give me big grins and actually turn around to study the little lobby. It makes it easy for me to hit nine on the programmed numbers and wait for someone to pick up. When they do I am eternally grateful that it is Remy, I can tell by his voice.

"Yes, Miss. Terry. It's almost check-out time and you requested a reminder call. I believe you said two." On the other end of the phone, I hear him start to question me, "No ma'am no trouble at all. Remember the bus." I place emphasis on the word bus and turn to look at the men. They are watching me now and I give them an 'I'm so sorry' look and mouth the words to them. "It runs every other hour so you don't want to be late, you'll miss getting back. Remember two. Alright ma'am, and thank you. You too."

If they knew I was talking to myself for the most part I wonder if they would be relaxed enough to lean on the counter like they do now. I act like I'm going to hang up using my hand and the phone to block the fact that I've hit the speakerphone. If they don't look hard enough they won't be able to tell I have it on. Unless Remy hangs up on me and the dial tone comes through the speaker. Maybe I sounded like a crazy person to him too and he hung up on me.

"Gentlemen what can I do for the two of you today?" I understand getting as much information to the men as fast as I can will help them if they even need my help. I might be just making a bigger ass of myself.

"We are looking for a friend. He is tall man, green-eyed, sandy hair, has his arm in a cast. He is our friend and we want to make sure he is alright. Do you know what room he is staying in?" the man's accent is so thick that if they are on the other line there will be no doubt the guy is Russian.

"I'm sorry sir; I don't think anyone is staying in the inn that fits that description. Are you sure he is staying with us?" It's not really a lie. Jim and his group of men are not staying in the inn, technically they’re out back.

The second man, who doesn't seem to be as smiley or as patient as the first man, is quick to shoot me a death glare," Yes, we are very sure he is here. Can you please check the rooms for us?"

"Of course, sir. It will take this thing a little while to get me to the right page but if you just bear with me," I bring up the reservations for the inn and leave off the list of cabins. "I am so sorry for asking and I hope you don't think I'm rude but are your accents Russian? I've always wanted to be able to speak in Russian. Such a mysterious and dark language. I took it for years but I don't think I got very good at it." The first man smiles at me and the second man grimaces. He is letting the game play out for now so they can charm what they want out of me. When the screen pops up I turn and give them my brightest smile and treat man number one like I would Remy.

"What is your friend's name?"

"Archer, Jamison Archer. But it may be under Jim." The second man is the man who answers me so I turn back and click the name in, thanking God above the Ramsey's don't put everyone in the system. It pulls up blank and I turn the computer showing the men.

"Yes, see I was right. There is no Jamison Archer staying in the inn with us at this time. Do you gentlemen think you may have gotten ahead of him? Sometimes the weather slows people down if they come into town on the southbound interstate."

"No, he is here. Check the cabins around back. I am sure he is in one of them." Shit!

"Oh I'm so sorry, sir. I can't pull that up, only my boss can. I can call him if you like and let you ask him." The angrier of the two takes his buddy to the side to talk to him. He speaks in Russian thinking I won't be able to tell what he's saying. Hopefully the person who helps Jim will be able to as well.

They talk about killing me and taking the information but the first one stops that idea when he mentions passwords they may need to get into the files. They talk about waiting for him to come out of the cottage and then taking him down but that is not quick enough. Apparently, murder has an expiration date. Who knew? They finally settle on trying to charm the information out of me. Pft, like that’s ever going to happen.

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