Chapter 2

Whatever else might be said of Paul Harshman, Pal decided, he couldn't be called cheap. Their drinks and dinners cost him over one hundred dollars, and he was going to drive them in his rented car to a road company performance of a current Broadway production. Having checked ticket prices the previous week, Pal knew that the seats Paul had reserved added another sixty dollars to the evening's tariff.

As he tipped the doorman of the exclusive club, where they had dined, Paul shifted his wallet under the blue-white light of the neon sign, frowned, and then tucked the obviously expensive leather folder in his jacket pocket.

Their car was driven up to the door, Paul helped Pal in, and went around to get behind the wheel.

"Hang on tight, beautiful," he told her. "Have to stop at the hotel on our way to the theater. It seems I forgot to change the tickets from my card case to my wallet. If we don't waste any time on the way, we'll still make the curtain."

He was also a good driver, Pal learned, as the car sped through traffic at magnum speed limits, maneuvered deftly in and out of lanes to avoid delays by slower vehicles. But she closed her eyes a few times, as they came close to brushing other cars during the frenzied race against time.

Though Paul had used the term "hotel" to describe his lodgings, when they wheeled into the beautifully landscaped driveway, Pal saw that it was more truly a motel. The larger part of the rooms and suites were separate units, with maximum privacy assured by the ingenious layout and judicious use of shrubs and trees.

Paul parked the car behind the end unit -- the most distant from the central facilities of the complex. He excused himself, and started to go inside. Then he halted, turned, and came back to the car. He leaned to place his head at the level of Pal's eyes, and opened her door.

"I don't like to leave you out here alone while I rummage around for those tickets," he told her. "It's too dark here, and there's too much shrubbery for concealment. Come on and wait for me in the doorway."

Pal had eyed the dark environment when they first parked, and it didn't take any coaxing to keep her as close to her escort as was properly permissible. She climbed out and accompanied him to his door. A faint glow from a recessed light illuminated the keyhole, but there was no overhead lamp at the entrance. Pal was not greatly surprised, knowing the secret nature of many comings and goings at motels.

Paul unlocked the door, leaving it wide open as he went into the dark interior. Instead of switching on the lights, he went through the room into another, and she saw a subdued gleam as he turned on a light somewhere beyond. She heard him rattling hangers, then there were sounds of drawers being opened and closed.

After a few minutes, just as she was growing uneasy and peering intently at the dark shrub-shapes around her, she heard Paul coming back. He was muttering stifled curses as he approached.

"I'm awfully sorry, Pal. I can't find those damned tickets anywhere. Maybe I'm rushing too fast. Come on in and latch the door while I take another look, will you, please?"

She made no move to comply, wondering about the advisability of enclosing herself in a remote motel unit like this with a man she knew so little about. Why did he want her inside all of a sudden, she wondered.

"With all the narcotic samples I have to keep in my quarters," he explained, providing the answer to her unvoiced question, "I have to be careful."

Pal stepped inside and closed the door without further thought. Her own training had instilled the same caution in her daily routine. One always kept narcotics and other drugs locked away from unauthorized personnel.

"Have a seat, Pal. I'll try not to be too long," he promised. He was outlined in the faint light beyond him as he went through the door to the adjoining room. Then he disappeared. Pal sat on the edge of a sofa she could just barely identify in the grayish darkness. Again she could hear his searching sounds and his annoyed mutterings.

Finally he came back into the room and stood there, once more a silhouette against the pale light of the doorway. He uttered a solitary "Damn!" and then come over to plop himself down beside Pal on the sofa. He heaved an exasperated sigh.