Domino (27 page)

"I got into trouble, mama," she said softly to
herself, "when I gave up my own dream to follow yours. I'm sorry,
mama. I'm sorry I could never be what you and Andy wanted. I tried.
I thought Morgan was your wishes come true. It was wrong. Don't be
angry with me. Please. This time I have to run away again like I
ran away from Andrew and Annika. I have to save my life. Not just
from Morgan, but from you. Please, forgive me, mama."

Clarissa let the tears fall. She sat for a
long while, her knees drawn up to her chest in the dark gray cellar
shadows. Her sobs were cleansing ones and when she finally started
up the stairs there was the stirrings of an unfamiliar inner
strength she had not known in a long time.

When Clarissa entered the hotel lobby it was
deserted. Even Dusty's cage was empty and his office door closed. A
Latino woman, her back bent and her long dark hair tied at the nape
of her neck, struggled with an upended wire cart full of rags that
had spilled while she was trying to get it down the
stairs.

"Can I help?" Clarissa offered.

The woman straightened and peered back at
Clarissa with a brilliant grin that took her aback. Clarissa was
surprised that the friendly woman was not as old as she first
appeared. Her round face was tanned by the sun, and, the round dark
eyes held a sparkling smile, the skin around them firm and
supple.

"I'm Sally Dugan," Clarissa introduced herself
as she bent to pick up some of the rags. The woman snatched them
out of Clarissa's hands and stuffed them into the cart.

"Graciella," the woman sputtered nervously in
a thick accent. "Graciella Santos."

"Nice to meet you," Clarissa smiled. The woman
merely replied something in Spanish, nodding and smiling as she
crammed the rest of the rags into the cart as fast as she could.
Clarissa watched the woman as she pushed her way out of the hotel
door, opened a faded blue umbrella, and waded out onto the puddled
sidewalk.

Clarissa fished the quarter out of her jeans
pocket and went to the pay phone. She inserted the coin and dialed
Hugo's Pacific Palisades number.

"Please be home, Hugo," she prayed.

"Hello?" It was the smooth high voice of
Hugo's roommate.

"Hi, this is Clarissa Hayden," she said. "Is
Hugo there?"

"I told you the other night when you called,
dearie," the sarcasm laced voice intoned, "that Hugo is in La
Jolla. The grand opening of his shop is today. Really, if you were
a personal friend of his you'd know that."

"Could you get a message to him?"

"He has a service for that at the Beverly
Hills salon."

"Yes, I know," Clarissa stammered, trying to
keep the man on the line while her mind raced. She did not have
enough money for the long distance call to La Jolla. "But this is
really personal. I didn't want to trust it to the salon. I used to
work there. I thought maybe you could get this message to Hugo.
Please. I really need your help."

"Fine," he said almost exasperated. "What is
it?"

"Tell him I'm at the Hempstead Hotel near
downtown. I need his help real bad."

"The Hempstead?" the voice sneered. "I thought
Hugo had a better class of friends than that."

"Please, just give him the message. I need him
to come and get me as soon as he can. I'm in some trouble. Please,
just tell him."

"How does Hugo ever get himself mixed up in
things like this? Alright. As soon as he calls me I'll tell him.
Clarissa at Hempstead. Trouble. Got it, dearie."

Clarissa hung up the phone feeling much better
than she had in three days. She was forced to trust Hugo's snotty
roommate but at least one other person knew that she was at the
Hempstead. She said a silent prayer that Hugo would eventually get
the message. It was good to feel that slight hope again. Besides
going to the soup kitchen at the church when Rowland returned, it
was something to look forward to. She climbed the stairs to the
third floor with a much lighter step.

A pleasant surprise was waiting outside her
door when she got to her room. Some kind soul had left a small,
covered Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee and a white bakery bag
with a cream filled donut inside. On top of the coffee cup was a
note that simply read "For a pretty lady"

"Thank you, Randy," Clarissa smiled and took
the coffee and donut inside.

She had not realized how famished she was
until she peeled the plastic lid off the coffee and smelled its
rich aroma. It awakened her hunger and she sipped greedily.
Clarissa could not remember the last time that she indulged in a
donut. They were forbidden fruit to any model. Keeping the figure
was the number one priority and that meant the sacrifice of any fat
saturated food. She stretched her memory clear back to high school
when she could finally recall the last donut. Back then she could
eat anything and everything and not gain a pound. Those were the
days.

Clarissa bit into the luscious sweet pastry
and licked the thick Bavarian cream off of her lips. It tasted like
heaven. She wanted to make it last, to relish each morsel, but
hunger drove her to finished it off in a couple quick bites. It did
little to stem the ravenous hunger. All that was left was the smell
of it on her fingertips.

She swigged down the last of the coffee and
sat on the edge of the bed. There was a stillness about the
building and Clarissa no longer heard the sound of the pounding
rain. If the storm had passed, she could take to the streets. Her
luck was finally beginning to change. Hugo would somehow find her.
She could stay with him for a few days until she could wire Andy
for a loan and a plane ticket to New York. The door would always be
open to her in her old modeling agencies. She would work again,
probably not as much, not the high paying assignments, but she
would make do. Maybe some television, or runway work. Maybe even
earn enough to hire some personal protection from Morgan. A
bodyguard. Maybe two. It was a start. It was hope.

Clarissa drew back the faded green curtain.
The red brick building next door, a twin to the Hempstead Hotel,
was dark and streaked with rain. The alley below was one big puddle
but the rain had indeed stopped for the moment. Dark clouds still
hung overhead. There was no patches of blue, no hint that the storm
was over.

She could just see some of the cars parked out
on the street. A green sedan splashed its way through the flooded
street and a black Cadillac eased into a narrow parking place.
Clarissa watched as the Cadillac's window rolled down and a face
peered out, looking at the entrance to the Hempstead.

Clarissa's heart stopped. The man in the
Cadillac was Marco Camponello. She watched in horror as he got out
of the car and crossed the street toward the hotel's
entrance.

She dragged the drape back across the window
and sat on the bed, her knees suddenly weak. They had found her. It
was over. There was nowhere else to run. Her heart pounded as she
tried to think. Where could she go? Where could she hide? Rowland
would hide her but he had not yet come back from visiting his
friend. Dusty was suspicious of her. He would probably tell Marco
where she was. Except Marco did not know that she was Sally Dugan,
but he had only to give Dusty a physical description. Would Dusty
think that Marco was the pimp she was hiding from? Dear God, she
hoped so. Then Dusty might call the police or something.

The sharp knock on the door made Clarissa
almost scream out loud. She wedged herself back into the corner and
waited. The rap came again and Clarissa whimpered.

"Miss Hayden? Are you there? Clarissa?" It was
Dotty Warren's indulgent voice and Clarissa leaped off the bed and
flung open the door.

"Dotty!" Clarissa grabbed the woman's hand and
pulled her into the room, almost knocking the thermos bottle out of
the missionary's hands. "Dotty! Come in, quickly! Thank God, you've
come. I didn't think you'd come back."

"Are you alright, Clarissa? You look like
you've had the daylights scared right out of you."

Clarissa tugged at Dotty's arm and pulled her
over to the window. Clarissa parted the drapes slightly and pointed
to the street.

"Do you see that black car parked across the
street?"

Dotty peered for a long moment out of the
grime smeared, rain spattered pane. "Can't say I see any black car.
There's a dark maroon mini-van..."

Clarissa shoved the stocky woman aside and
looked out the window. The Cadillac was gone. Clarissa sat down
heavily on the bed, still shaking. "It was there," she managed to
say. "I know I saw it."

"Well, I got to thinking," Dotty said as she
twisted the lid off the thermos, "about you being up here all by
yourself, afraid to go out. I knew with another storm due in
tonight you might not be able to get over to God's Kitchen, so I
thought I would bring you a little of my homemade chicken vegetable
soup. Warm up your insides on a rainy day. I hope you like it. I
used to make it for my family on days like this. They loved
it."

It was hard to think of Dotty as having any
family. Clarissa imagined her living alone in a cluttered
apartment.

"You have a family?" Clarissa
asked.

"Just Angus and me now," Dotty said. "Kids
come back some times to do laundry or when they're
broke."

Dotty poured some of the soup into the lid
then set the thermos down on the nightstand. She dug into her black
purse and came up with a white plastic spoon wrapped in a paper
towel. She unfolded the towel and spread it on Clarissa's lap and
handed her the soup and the spoon. Clarissa tasted a spoonful and
grinned. The soup was hot and heavenly, lightly spiced, with chunks
of chicken and vegetables.

"Thank you," she said. "This is great. I just
had my dessert. Somebody left me a donut. This is great soup. I’m
feasting like a queen today."

"I figured you'd be starving," Dotty smiled
satisfied as she watched Clarissa eat. "I had to bring some baby
formula to a family in the building next door. This was on my way.
Oh, I called that number you gave me. Rudest man answered. Said he
never heard of you. Told me to call some hair place in Beverly
Hills."

"Thanks," said Clarissa between mouthfuls. "I
already called. I left a message for my friend to come and pick me
up."

"I hope he comes before this storm," said
Dotty. "It's going to be a bad one with heavy rain."

"He can't come until tomorrow," Clarissa
replied as she handed the empty thermos lid back to Dotty. "But I
need to get out of here now."

"More?"

"Yes, please”. Dotty filled the lid again and
Clarissa complimented her after each spoonful.

"Dotty, I've got to ask you a big favor,"
Clarissa said, scrapping the bottom of the lid. "Would you help
me?"

"I said I'd help you all I can."

"My brother was supposed to wire some money to
a friend of mine, a Virginia Essex over on the west side. It should
be at her condo. I'm going to go live with my brother and the money
is for a plane ticket. I need a ride. It's over near
Westwood."

"Well, there's just a drop of this soup left,"
Dotty said. "Finish it up. My car's parked right outside. Maybe we
can beat the rain."

"No, I can't be seen leaving," Clarissa said
as she accepted the last of the soup. "Can you pull your car around
to the back alley?"

"Clarissa, is something wrong? Can you tell
me?"

Clarissa handed her the empty soup lid and
fought with the indecision to tell this woman, who she hardly knew,
who she really was. Finally, Clarissa had no choice. Escape was now
the priority. Get out. Get as far away as possible.

"Someone is trying to kill me."

Dotty Warren's face was as blank and
expressionless at that news as the kid in the cellar.

"Who?" she asked.

"My fiancé. A man who works for him was parked
in a black Cadillac across the street just before you
came."

"He's not there now."

"No, but I think he knows I'm here. Dusty
might have gotten rid of him for now. I'm terrified that he'll be
back. You don't believe me, do you? You think I'm just a crazy
person, making all this up."

"I believe you, Clarissa. Is that your real
name? Before you told me it was Sally Dugan."

"It's Clarissa Hayden. My fiancé’s secretary
got me in here, gave me these clothes to wear so I'd blend in, and
Morgan wouldn't find me. My purse and jewels, and probably the
money my brother wired from Dubai is at her condo."

"Dubai?" Dotty asked skeptically.

"Andy works there for an oil company,"
Clarissa explained and the more she said, the more unbelievable her
story sounded to her own ears. She began to panic when she felt
that she was losing Dotty but she went on, unable to stop. Someone
had to know her story.

"I have to get the money so that I can leave
the country."

"That sounds like a rather fantastic story,
Sally, ah Clarissa."

"I'm telling you the truth. I saw Morgan order
a man, a business associate, killed and now Morgan is trying to
kill me."