Three

A few days later, Owen had all but forgotten the strange phone call that he had received the other night. He was used to getting the odd call from a complete quack who felt that they knew him from the information that was given out over the television stations.

People wanted to come to the motel to get their fill of gore. Owen did not know what they people had expected prior to arrival, but most of them seemed oddly disappointed to find that there were not dead bodies laying in the hallway. They also seem to expect the place to be run down and blood splattered. He actually had a middle-aged woman actually scream at him for having the audacity to replace thr carpets and flooring. She wanted to see the original blood stains.

He also had the ghost hunters and paranormal adventurers wanting to check the place over for disgruntled spirits. They would rent rooms for a few days and come dragging in tons of equipment that they would carry around. They would check for 'readings' and ask of their were any 'presenses' around.

He even had people trying to have seances or to try to contact the victims with a ouija board. He had a yoing girl try to tell him that his mother said hello to him. That she had made contact with them and told them that she was happy on the other side. Owen did not believe that for a second but he just thanked them for giving him the message and called it a day.

Although he had to admit that he would rather have the nosey ladies and the guys trying to get famous with a video camera any day, compared to the big magazines and talk show hosts on television. They were persistant and annoying. They would not take no for an answer, thinking that if they kept calling or offering him money that he would change his mind and break his silence. They have even sent fruit baskets and bottles of champagne trying to bribe him. He got calls from producers and editors at least twice a week.

Everyone wanted to use the motel to film the ten year reunion of the only surviving victims of the 'motel muderers' as the news had taken to calling them. That is how 'murder motel' had come about and stuck. They wanted Lacey, Andy and the kids show up and talk about what happened. They were hoping that Lacey and Andy would blame Owen, with sparks flying on national television. Conflict made for higher ratings apparently.

Owen just wanted them to leave him alone. Now, he will admit that at first when he first opened the hotel, he had appreciated all the people who was curious about the motel, considering that was the only busines that he could get at the time. But as time had passed and he had began to build up an impressive reputation, he did not feel like he needed that form of business any more.

The motel had been mentioned in a couple of travel magazines as a 'wonderful little small town gem'. Over the years the motel has turned an impressive profit, far exceeding his expectations. The place was usually always booked to at least sixty percent capacity. Considering that he lived at his place of business, he only had one set of bills to pay. All of his other money went into his savings, which has grown to be quite impressive, if he does say so himself.

Besides that, he also has a booming business in town that no one knows about. He makes custom wooden furniture which he sells to the local furniture store owner, Mr. Avery, who sells it for an even higher price. That makes Owen a nice chunk of change on the side.

Walking towards his work shop out behind the motel, he passes the newest guests that checked in last night. Three teenage boys and two girls. They are making a documentary of locations across the country that had been the scene of a grizzly crime. They were telling him that they had already filmed nearly one hundred places, the most famous being the Lizzie Borden house, the Amityville Horror House, Ed Gein's house, Jeffery Dahmer's house, and the Vallisca Ax Murder House. They told him they were on there way to California to see the Manson Mansion. Owen feigned interest before politely slipping away before they could ask him to 'say a few words for the camera'.

When he reached his workshop, he rested his hand on the door knob as he dug in his pocket for the key. His hand slipped and the handle turned a bit. Finding that odd, Owen turned the knob, shocked to find it unlocked. He never left it unlocked because he had dangerous, not to mention expensive, tools in there and his insurance would not cover accidents including a table saw.

Looking around, nothing appeared to be out of place. His saws, sander and buffer all appeared to be were he left it. None of his equipment appeared to be tampered with, so he thought nothing else of the matter. Pulling the dust covering away from his latest creation, he tossed the cloth to the floor.

In front of him stood a large bookshelf. It was about nine feet tall and six feet wide. It had six shelves on it, divided in the middle as it was two different bookcases. He had made it into two pieces to male it easier to transport, but they attached together and formed one large bookshelf. It was dark wood and it had ornate hand carved modling around the frame.

The best part though was the attachable wooden ladder. Owen had fastened a wooden bar across the top and a ladder with carved rungs, that rested on the bar. The person could slide the ladder to where they wanted to be and then climb up to reach the book. The bookshelf was gorgeous if he did say so himself and he was proud of it. All the hard work and incredibly long hours had paid off.

He could not wait to see Lacey's face when he gave it to her for Christmas. He was making her a matching rocking chair to go with it. He had already made Andy a ten foot wooden boat that was five feet wide. It held up to four people and although it was rustic, it was really nice. He thought that Andy would like it. He had already drawn up a plan to make Jack a desk and chair to take to school with him.

As for Sunny, he could not decide if he would rather make her a vanity mirror and stool to match her room or if he would rather make her a small display case for her bake goods. While Jack had dreams of being a doctor, Sunny wanted to open her own bakery. She had a way of making desserts that were out of this world. She made Owen a batch of donuts that were the best thing that he had ever tasted. Yet she could make complicated desserts too, such as baklava, soufflé, macarons and baked Alaska.

She liked to collect bake ware and cooking utensils, but other the last few months she had told Owen that she was trying to find large kitchen appliances as well as shelves, counters and display cases that she could put in storage until she opened her own business. Since he was going to have to take a moving truck down there anyways, he might as well go whole hog and make her the large display case.

He already had Marnie's Christmas gift put away. He had made her a table and chairs to go in her tree house. Nine years ago, when Owen was still living with them, he and Andy had built Jack and Sunny a large tree house. The thing was huge, big enough for the whole family to get in there comfortable.

It had a ladder to climb up to it and a slide coming down. Beneath it on the limb was three swings. At the time the third had been a baby swing, for Marnie to use later, since she was a newborn at the time. It had later turned into a real swing as well. 

After Jack and Sunny had hit their teen years, they had lost interest in the tree house, which meant it had belonged solely to Marnie. Right now all she has in there is a chair that he had made her for her birthday and the bookshelf that he hade made her last Christmas. 

She had made the tree house into a reading nook and had kept her toys in the tree house in an old chest he had made her when she was a toddler. Now she was too old for toys, she claimed. She wanted to make the tree house a more adult space for herself. 

Andy had run some electricty out there and she hung Christmas lights along the walls. The toy chest was now filled with throw blankets, magazines and sodas. She had her chairs in there and a small love seat that she had bought from their neighbor. When he had been there in May, he had helped her rearrange it. She had mentioned that all she needed was a kitchen and it was prefect.

He knew that Andy was getting her a mini fridge for out there. He was making her a small table set and a cabinet counter to go along the wall. That way she would feel like she had a mini kitchenette out there, so she and her friends could hang out in there.

With thoughts of his family on his mind and all of the things that he wants to make for them, he sets to work finishing the gift for Lacey. He loses all track of time, getting lost in his work until his cell phone rings, getting his attention. He digs it out of his pocket and answers it.

“Hello?”

“Owen, it's Stephanie.” She tells him, as if it he could not have guessed that when he saw the motel was the one calling him. He works hard not to sigh in exasperation at the girl.

“Yeah, Stephanie, is there a problem?” He asks her kindly.

“Oh, um, no. Not really. I just wanted to let you know that a reporter lady checked in for an extended stay and that you received a phone call.”

“Okay, was it my family, because they will jut call my cell phone-”

“No, it wasn't your family.” She says quickly.

“Well, did they happen to leave a message for me?” Owen asks her patiently.

“Yes.”

As he waits for her to elaborate, a movement outside of the window catches his eye. It looked like someon just walked past his workshop, but he doubts that is so, considering it is far removed from the hotel and it is dark outside. Why would anyone feel the need to come back there? Maybe it was just an animal.

The silence on the other end of the line drags on and he loses his patience, snapping out. “What was the message?”

“Oh..” She drawls, as if just now realizing that she should have given him it already. “I wrote it down for you..” He hears her shuffling papers around. “Here it is. It just says 'Sit back and enjoy the show. You've earned this.' Are you going to see a movie or a play?”

“No, I'm not. I have no idea what that means or who it might be from.” Owen tells her, finding the message odd. Maybe the caller had the wrong person. Or maybe it was some television network who has done another special on his family. They are free game to to these people because Owen refuses to go through the trouble of trying to shut them down or sue them for dragging up the story. He chooses to ignore it. Just like he is going to ignore this message. “How is everything else?”

She gives him a very long and detailed recounting of her evening, until he makes an excuse to rush off the phone. Putting away all of his tools and equipment, he is ready to head back to the motel to go to bed. As he is leaving the workshop, he makes sure to double check that the door is locked before he leaves.

Once he is back in his room and wearing only his boxers, laid back on his bed with a cold can of pepsi, he turns on the tv. He lays back against his pillows to watch the last forty minutes of Con Air. When that movie goes off, he is flipping through the channels to see if there is something that he might want to watch before he calls it a night. He passes over the news station but something caught his attention and he changes the channel back to the local news channel.

“Cassandra Baker is twenty-seven years old. She was last seen leaving her home at seven a.m Tuesday morning. She was wearing loose fitting army green camo pants and a white tank top. She has shoulder length brown hair that she keeps pulled up and she had a tattoo of barbed wire on her wrist. If anyone has seen Cassandra or has any information about her whereabouts they are asked to contact the police station or call this number.”

It goes on to give a number but Owen does not even glance at it. He is too busy looking at the picture of the girl on the screen. She is young and pretty, smiling wide in the chosen photo with laughter glistening in her chocolate colored eyes.

Owen is struck by a since of deja vu. For mot of his childhood he would see these missing reports on television and know that his family had something to do with it. Now he knows that there is not chance that he will stumble upon that girl in his basement or in the back bedrooms because the time for that has long since past. Nate and Dave are dead.

He spares a quick thought for the girl and for her family, who must be worried out of their minds over her. Turning off the television, he rolls over and goes to sleep, unconcerned with everything else. He finds peace in his slumber, since he hasn't a care in the world.