~~~ After her tarot session with Violet, Phyl went back to her tiny apartment with much on her mind. She took the phone off the hook and paced the floor incessantly. She ate and drank little and slept less. For three days she paced, wrestling with first her conscience, then her dignity. She contrasted that to her ambition, and that to her instinctive fear of the unknown, namely Al. Finally, she decided on a compromise. If she could not bring herself to contact the authorities directly, neither could she let the matter drop. Her only option, it seemed, was the anonymous phone call. She left her apartment that Wednesday morning for the first time in days. In order to thwart any attempt on the authorities part to trace the call, she decided to use the phone booth on the corner. With trembling fingers, she hesitantly punched in the number of the FBI. “What a view!” exclaimed Muldoon. He and Kelly were in his rented car high atop Twin Peaks, looking down at the city spread out beneath them. The day was sunny and clear after the storms of the past few days, and the view was, indeed, spectacular. “I thought you’d like it up here,” agreed Kelly. “Beats the Hollywood Hills.” Muldoon lowered his dark glasses down over his eyes and restarted the car. As they drove down the hill toward Market Street, he remarked, “You’ve sure shown me some great sights in the last few days, Kelly, but frankly I’m starting to get a little bored. Let’s see, we met last Wednesday, we got our alien ray guns on Friday,” he tried to suppress his laughter but ~
Tales
from
The
Last
Resort
by
The
Mad
Mick
286
~