When Deena had finally gotten into town, she had gone to a series of motels in hopes of finding the one Sam was residing in. Each clerk she had asked the same thing: “Have you seen this guy?” along with a picture that she showed; and each time, it was a dead end. She was about to reach an all new level of frustration from not being able to find him, but when she reached the second of the last motel that was on her last she had scored.
”And, who are you?”
Deena could understand the skepticism that the guy had; in this day and age, people asking for other people often meant trouble was brewing. ”I’m his wife... he told me he was going to be staying at this place, but silly little me – I forgot what room it was.”
”Mrs. Robert Kripke, then. Well, he be in room number twelve.”
“Thanks, hon. Much appreciated,” she said with a wave.
knock! knock!
From the outside, Deena listened silently with her ear to the door for sounds of life. “Sam!... You in there?” Maybe he wasn’t in, she thought as she continued to rape her knuckles against the door eventually working her way to the side of her fist for pounding. “Hey, Sam! It’s me… Deena; could you let me in please?”