Free The Last Motel by Brett McBean

up?”
    Madge gave a relieved smile. “No, they’re all still up.”
    “That’s good,” Wayne said. “Is there anything else?”
    “No. I’m just glad we sorted it out. Is your son okay? Spiders can be a real problem out here.”
    Wayne nodded. “He’s still a little shaken, but I checked the bathroom and there didn’t seem to be any more hiding.”
    “Well, I’ll leave you in peace,” Madge said. “Sorry to have bothered you.” She headed for the door.
    “Nonsense,” Wayne chuckled. “You have to check out suspicious things. Like when a person screams. I understand.”
    He hurried over and opened the door for her. She thanked him.
    “Have a good night,” Madge said as she stepped out.
    “We will,” Wayne said.
    The door closed behind her and she made her way back towards the office.
    The cold wind that blew against Madge didn’t register with her. She had something else pressing on her mind. It was Wayne’s face that bothered her. She was a very astute person, and she noticed things; small things. She was especially good at remembering things about people’s faces. It wasn’t that his face still looked familiar (she just wished she could remember when she had last encountered him). No, there was a smaller detail that nudged at her brain.
    She was still thinking about it when she arrived at the office door. By pure action, without even thinking about doing it, she pulled out the key and opened the door. She closed and locked it. Then in a flash it came to her.
    Wayne didn’t have a moustache. She knew he had had one when he arrived.
    She knew a lot of customers, particularly men, wore disguises when staying the night at her motel. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.
    But why would a father wear a fake moustache? It didn’t make sense.
    She walked through the lounge and into her bedroom. Her place was nice and warm. The open fire in the lounge did wonders to warm the place. She threw her scarf and coat onto the bed, then strolled back into the lounge. She sat down in her chair and stared blankly at the TV screen. The sound was turned down.
    Why would he wear a fake moustache? What does he have to hide?
    Madge shook her head. She knew it wasn’t any of her business. Unless they did something illegal, or she suspected illegal activity, it was no one’s business but Wayne and his son’s.
    But she could wonder. She could try and remember when she had seen him.
    She certainly had a bizarre bunch of customers tonight. Only Morrie and his wife seemed normal.
    But what’s normal these days?
    She picked up the remote control, and was about to turn up the volume, when she remembered her tea. She hopped up and shuffled into the kitchen. The small cup was still sitting on the bench. She felt the cup. It was stone cold. She picked it up and went over to the sink. There she tipped the green water out, then threw the sodden teabag into the bin.
    It didn’t matter to her, though. Tonight she needed something stronger than herbal tea. Placing the cup in the sink, she headed back into the lounge, where she slid open her liquor cabinet, and pulled out her long-time friend – Black Douglas.
    He would see her through tonight, which she knew wasn’t over yet. Unfortunately this night was bound to get weirder. Just like the rain, she knew when to spot it. That came from experience as well.
    From outside, somebody rang the doorbell.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
    Wayne turned off the shower then went about untying the boy. He had hurriedly bound the boy’s hands to the sink pipe, and had shoved a small hand towel into his mouth. He untied his hands, and they flopped to the floor. A sticky bit of phlegm was joined to the towel as Wayne took it out.
    The boy fought for air.
    “Get up,” Wayne said.
    The boy did as he was told.
    “Remember what I said. If you scream again, or try to run, I will not only kill all of these people, including you, but also hunt down your family. Understand?”
    The boy, naked and