guest. Enjoy your stay.” Rachael saw an expose on television uncovering the filth these comforters sometimes contained, and this information was just too good to believe. After reading the sentence for the third time, her curiosity drove her to pick up the edge of the comforter and pull it towards her face. As she held it against her nose and took a detective sniff, her nose not only told her the message was true, but they also used Downey fabric softener.
Rachael took a step into the bathroom. It had a long counter with a sink large enough to wash a baby or small dog. The tub was garden style, with jets and another sign that read, “Feel free to relax, the utmost care was taken to sanitize and clean this area.” Rachael thought who the hell were these people? Didn’t they know that motels were supposed to be suspicious places where people tiptoed around in their flip-flops to avoid touching the ground? Rachael looked in the mirror and saw her green eyes staring back at her. Her blonde hair crept down her back a little longer than she liked, but the network informed her viewers liked it that way. She loathed the time it took from her busy schedule keeping it blond. She wore two faces. She had an innocent, sweet, girly face that contradicted her on-air personality as the hard-hitting bulldog reporter, which gained her national fame. When Rachael was off the air her appearance bordered on plain. A quick study of her revealed a great potential for beauty if she cared to try. The make-up artists and hairdressers from the television crew realized her potential nightly. Her body didn’t hurt her ratings, as it was firm and curved in all the right places. She looked like an aerobics instructor in a suit. When she opened her mouth, the fitness façade quickly dissipated. She was a feisty broad who easily fooled her sources into giving her what she wanted with her Southern charm. Born in Sweet Palm, Mississippi and escaping at eighteen, she held fast upon her down south accent and mannerisms when needed. Now at the top, her assignment sent her south once again to investigate and report on the Tilley murders.
Rachael unpacked her bags, hanging the clothes she did not want to wrinkle and dividing the rest between the drawers of the armoire. It was her usual habit to live out of her suitcase, but the cleanliness of the room led her to feel safe in doing so. Rachael lined her sundries on the bathroom counter. Everything had to be orderly. She showered and washed the hairspray out of her hair and the makeup off of her face. After towel drying her hair, Rachael put it up in a ponytail using her favorite scrunchie. She put on a pair of shorts, a tee-shirt with no bra, and once again felt like herself. She wished she could have traveled this way, adding back in the bra, which didn’t have too big of a job to do other than concealing her nipples. The network felt she was too visible in airports and discouraged the practice. Rachael was savvy with her career decisions. She complied during times her visibility was high, which increased the possibility of being recognized, even in her down-to-earth state.
Comfortable, Rachael unpacked her laptop and connected to the station’s network. Scrolling through her email messages, she also checked her voice mail. Her position demanded the ability to multitask and instances where she needed to only concentrate on a single item were rare. Nothing of immediate importance came across the computer or phone lines. So, Rachael propped herself up with the bounty of pillows in the bed, found an I Love Lucy marathon on the television, and fell asleep, just as her guest host started her nine o’clock show.
Chapter 20
Benny sat reading the paper on the top deck of his houseboat when the phone rang. He expected the call to be a reporter or Vernon. When he answered, there was a real surprise for him on the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
“Hi
Rachael took a step into the bathroom. It had a long counter with a sink large enough to wash a baby or small dog. The tub was garden style, with jets and another sign that read, “Feel free to relax, the utmost care was taken to sanitize and clean this area.” Rachael thought who the hell were these people? Didn’t they know that motels were supposed to be suspicious places where people tiptoed around in their flip-flops to avoid touching the ground? Rachael looked in the mirror and saw her green eyes staring back at her. Her blonde hair crept down her back a little longer than she liked, but the network informed her viewers liked it that way. She loathed the time it took from her busy schedule keeping it blond. She wore two faces. She had an innocent, sweet, girly face that contradicted her on-air personality as the hard-hitting bulldog reporter, which gained her national fame. When Rachael was off the air her appearance bordered on plain. A quick study of her revealed a great potential for beauty if she cared to try. The make-up artists and hairdressers from the television crew realized her potential nightly. Her body didn’t hurt her ratings, as it was firm and curved in all the right places. She looked like an aerobics instructor in a suit. When she opened her mouth, the fitness façade quickly dissipated. She was a feisty broad who easily fooled her sources into giving her what she wanted with her Southern charm. Born in Sweet Palm, Mississippi and escaping at eighteen, she held fast upon her down south accent and mannerisms when needed. Now at the top, her assignment sent her south once again to investigate and report on the Tilley murders.
Rachael unpacked her bags, hanging the clothes she did not want to wrinkle and dividing the rest between the drawers of the armoire. It was her usual habit to live out of her suitcase, but the cleanliness of the room led her to feel safe in doing so. Rachael lined her sundries on the bathroom counter. Everything had to be orderly. She showered and washed the hairspray out of her hair and the makeup off of her face. After towel drying her hair, Rachael put it up in a ponytail using her favorite scrunchie. She put on a pair of shorts, a tee-shirt with no bra, and once again felt like herself. She wished she could have traveled this way, adding back in the bra, which didn’t have too big of a job to do other than concealing her nipples. The network felt she was too visible in airports and discouraged the practice. Rachael was savvy with her career decisions. She complied during times her visibility was high, which increased the possibility of being recognized, even in her down-to-earth state.
Comfortable, Rachael unpacked her laptop and connected to the station’s network. Scrolling through her email messages, she also checked her voice mail. Her position demanded the ability to multitask and instances where she needed to only concentrate on a single item were rare. Nothing of immediate importance came across the computer or phone lines. So, Rachael propped herself up with the bounty of pillows in the bed, found an I Love Lucy marathon on the television, and fell asleep, just as her guest host started her nine o’clock show.
Chapter 20
Benny sat reading the paper on the top deck of his houseboat when the phone rang. He expected the call to be a reporter or Vernon. When he answered, there was a real surprise for him on the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
“Hi
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