Heartache Motel: Three Interconnected Mystery Novellas (Henery Press Mystery Novellas) Read Free

my sistah from a different mistah?” He wheeze-laughed and fondled one string of the purple, crocheted tuque permanently attached to his head.
    “Axton, can I talk to you for a sec?” I plucked the sleeve of his jacket and yanked him to the rear of the car. “What the hell?” I asked, lowering my voice so Joe wouldn’t overhear. “He is not coming with us.”
    “Don’t worry, I’ll pay his way. I can’t leave him home, Rose. Look at him.”
    Joe stood next to the car, his mouth wide open, squinting up at a maple’s bare branches. I glanced at the tree. Then back at Joe. Neither one had moved.
    “He’s okay during the day,” Ax said, “but after the first night, when all the Funyons are gone, what’s he going to eat?” Ax batted his blue eyes at me. “Please? It’s the season of charity and kindness, after all.”
    Oh brother. “Fine, but try and keep him in check, would you?”
    Axton smiled. “Thanks, Rosie, you’re the best.”
    We stuck Axton’s bags and Joe’s Walmart sack in the trunk. When I went to climb back in the car, Roxy had snagged the passenger seat. She rolled down the window, furiously chomping her gum. “If you think I’m getting squashed between those two, you’re demented.”
    I reached out and tugged on her blue braid. “We’ll take turns.”
    She batted at my hand. “Forget it.”
    So I squeezed myself into the backseat between Ax and the door. Before Ma could pull out of the driveway, I leaned across Axton’s lap and glared at Joe. “Hey. No toking up in the car.”
    He grinned. “No worries, man. I’ve got some special popcorn balls.” He pointed to his temple. “I’m always thinking ahead.”
    Yep, this trip was off to a great start.

    By the time we reached Memphis, I’d taken the wheel and it was almost midnight. We’d been on the road for over twelve hours and had stopped to pee and eat eleven times. Along the way, Ma snored, Roxy complained, Ax fiddled with his computer, and Joe said things like, “That taco dog is driving a car, man.” After the third such non sequitur, I quit asking.
    Ma had made reservations at a hotel down the street from Graceland. I pulled into the lot, past the guardhouse and circled the building three times in search of a parking spot. I wound up blocking two cars near the front entrance and decided to find a better location after we checked in.
    Through the passenger window, Ma gazed up at the pink neon heart near the top of the building. “We’re here, kids. We’ve made it to Memphis.”
    Climbing out of the car, we stretched our legs before grabbing the bags. Ax and I carried Ma’s as well as our own as we tromped inside.
    Despite the late hour, a swarm of people filled the lobby. Their loud chatter was an indistinguishable buzz until a man standing next to the bank of elevators spoke into a microphone. Something about a scavenger hunt. I had to jerk Ma out of the way as people stampeded toward him.
    “What are all these people doing here?” Roxy asked.
    “I don’t know,” Ma said, “but it sure looks like a kick.” She wandered to a grouping of blue Christmas trees decorated in silver balls, then spun to gawk at the memorabilia covering the walls.
    At one end of the lobby, photos of Elvis from his Army days covered two tables. At the far end, a roped off, life-sized nativity scene was set up. Wax statues of young Elvis, sexy sixties Elvis, and jumpsuit Elvis were featured as the wise men. Each wax figure held a cheap wooden treasure chest. Not very reverent, but kind of kitschy fun.
    Stoner Joe gravitated toward it and Roxy left in search of the ladies’ room. Ma, Ax, and I took up residence behind a group of Asian tourists at the front desk.
    When it was finally our turn, Ma gave her name and the harried desk clerk tapped on his keyboard. “Oh my. I am so sorry. Check-in was hours ago and we gave your room away. I do apologize.” 
    She adjusted her specs. “Mister, I made my reservation a week ago. Gave my credit