I’m just the messenger. Please don’t get mad. Trish Maynard, by the way. Please don’t get me in trouble!” she pleaded, feeling very scared.“...hy would I get mad?” Tara asked, very confused.“Tara Harmon?” a man now approached her, wearing a sports jacket, slacks, and a turtleneck.“That’s me,” Tara gulped.“You’ve been served,” the man coughed, “With apologies. I know that the holidays are an awful time to get served.”Tara looked very faint and Trish rushed to get her some water, especially as her. . "I joined, "Tell me and I'll be around!" What room have we got?" she asked."Room 144," I answered."Isn't that a coincidence?" she remarked."Isn't what a coincidence?" I said."That was our room number in Visalia, don't you remember?" she said."Yeah, I do—I was just messing with you."I opened it up and it was pretty nice, much nicer than that hole in Visalia we'd stayed at. I locked the car and I locked the room."I need the bathroom Jerry?" she asked."Sure thing," I said, kicking off my shoes. More

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