Sunday, August 14, 2011

Alisha's story

*Finally had a minute to write again and thought I'd put together another page of my story. If you want to read from the beginning it's not hard. This is my on-going blog fiction story.

Alisha stretched from beneath the cheap hotel comforter. She kept her eyes closed, pretending she was in the penthouse of a luxury hotel but the scratchy sheets and a constant buzzing noise interrupted her. She felt around, eyes stilled closed, for her cell phone she always kept on the night table when she traveled. Nothing. She peeked one eye opened and remembered she wasn't allowed to use her cell phone. It was turned off, in her purse. She closed her eye again.

Her mind wandered. What day was it again? Friday. She told her boss she was going to the beach for a long weekend starting today.

The beach. She tried to imagine the cool salty spray coming off the water, the gritty sand beneath her toes and the warm sun on her face. Still the buzzing noise continued to interrupt her.

"Urgh," she groaned and flung back the covers, reaching for the alarm clock. But it wasn't set. She sat on the side of the bed listening. Something was in her room buzzing. It almost sounded like her cell phone. Sweat popped out on her forehead. She turned it off, right? She couldn't answer it. But she had to find it.

Alisha grabbed her purse from the floor and dumped the contents on the bed. Lipstick. Her wallet. Business cards. Three pens. And a completely still cellphone. She pushed a button on the front waiting for it to light up. Nothing. She sank back onto the bed until a moment later the buzzing started again. Then she remembered the pre-paid cell the agent had given her the night before. She dug through her suitcase to find the envelope she'd buried inside it when she found her hotel room the night before. It buzzed once more and fell silent.

10 missed calls.

She almost dropped the phone when it buzzed in her hand. Taking a deep breath she answered.

"What kind of game are you playing?" a male voice hissed on the other end of the line.

"Wh-what?" she stammered.

"Do you think we're stupid?" he hissed again.

"Who is this?"

"It's the agent you gave dummy information to last night," his voice lowered. "What happened to the information you promised me? You said you had proof of the fraud. What you gave me looks like a guest list to your boss's Christmas party."

Alisha fell back onto the bed. Her mouth went dry.

"Hello??" he almost yelled.

"I'm...I'm here," she whispered. "I don't know what you're talking about. I had copies of the transactions he said he made for clients, dummy accounting sheets and fake portfolio numbers. You should have all of it the box."

"I don't know what you think you gave me, but we have to fix this. Now. My boss is asking for the information this afternoon and if I don't have something to give him, your hotel room and prepaid visa are gone. I won't be able to help you."

She clenched the cheap floral comforter in her fist. Dear God, help me, she thought.

"And Alisha," he continued, "if they switched the papers, then they know. And if they know..."

"I get it okay," her voice cracked as she spoke.

"We have to make the raid now before they destroy all the evidence. If they know, it may already be too late. But without the paperwork, we don't have ground for a search warrant," he explained, his voice softening.

Alisha clenched her teeth. It's all about the case. It had nothing to do with her safety. With the loss of her career or family. She was just another informant. He may have looked like her little brother, but he didn't act or think like him at all. She blinked away all the other thoughts and focused on his words again.

"We can't meet back at the park from last night or too close to your hotel, it's too dangerous. But I have to talk to you face to face. We have to figure this out. There's an antique bookstore with a coffee shop about 30 miles away. Can you meet me there?"

"Yeah," she replied, her voice hoarse. "I'll be there."

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