Page 95 of The Inmate
“Can I do anything for you?” he asks.
“I just want to be alone for a while,” I say.
“Of course. Call me later?”
Does he want me to call him because he’s concerned about me? Or because he wants a window into what I’m thinking? “Sure.”
What is Caleb’s game? I know that he knows Dawn, but that’s all I know for sure. He doesn’t seem like he could possibly be a murderer. I can’t wrap my head around it.
There’s something at that motel he doesn’t want me to know about. I’m sure of it now.
I’m going to find out what it is.
ChapterFifty-Six
An hour later,I am freshly showered, changed into jeans and a sweater, and feeling like an entirely new person. I feel so good, I hate the idea of getting into the car and taking a long road trip. But it won’t be so bad. Seth will be driving, and I have to get to the bottom of this. Somebody from that motel was calling me over and over. I need to know why.
Seth stands up when I come down to the living room. “Ready to go?”
“Yes. Definitely.”
“You feeling okay?”
I rub my eyes. “Just a little tired. I’ll be fine.”
“Maybe you should take a few Collahealth capsules?”
Then we both laugh.
We get back on the road, but I still haven’t eaten much since the awful breakfast they served me in jail. We stop off at a fast-food drive-through, and I order food I would never ordinarily indulge in. But I’mstarving. All I want is a big, greasy fast-food burger.
Seth laughs when I demolish about half the burger in three bites. I remember when we were hooking up last year, we ended up eating a lot of fast food in the car. After all, we could hardly go to a restaurant. Sitting here in the car with Seth, stuffing fast-food fries in my mouth, gives me a sense of déjà vu.
“How are things going with Melinda?” I ask.
“Awful. This may come as a shock, but getting divorced sucks.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
I squirm in the leather seat. “I feel responsible.”
“You’re not,” he says flatly. Yeah, right. “Look, I’m not going to say that what happened between you and me didn’t make the whole thing a lot more contentious. But it was going to happen either way. We didn’t evenlikeeach other anymore. You know Melinda and I haven’t had sex in over threeyears?”
He said something like that when we were together, but I always thought he was exaggerating. I don’t think so anymore.
“It’s not your fault,” he says. “Or if it was, it was only because you reminded me that I was actually capable of being happy.”
I don’t know if he’s saying that to let me off the hook or if he means it. But right now, I’ll take it. I already feel bad enough about myself. I don’t need to add homewrecker to the list of horrible things I’ve done in my life.
Seth turns on the radio while we drive. He’s really into classic rock, which is not my favorite, but I don’t care much right now. I remember when I told Caleb my favorite singer was Celine Dion. His face lit up.Celine Dion is my favorite too!Now I wonder if he was making that up, as another way to get close to me. What man’s favorite singer isCeline Dion?
It’s an almost ninety-minute drive to get to the motel. It’s a large place—two stories sprawled out over a large lot—with dozens of rooms that open directly to the outside. And it’s in the middle of nowhere. It’s a perfect place to hide out.
A neon sign denotes the main office for the motel. Seth parks right outside, and we sit in the car for a moment. “You ready?” he asks.
I nod wordlessly. There are butterflies in my stomach—I’m terrified of what Caleb doesn’t want me to know about this place. What has he done? Is my boyfriend a cold-blooded killer? Is Dawn lying dead in one of these motel rooms, sprawled out on a plastic-covered mattress?
