Room 303 is a sequel to Room 103 – a Marice Houston Mystery. Back in Pittburg, Kansas, Deputy Marshall, Marice Houston, has come to visit her friend Todd and, of course, gets embroiled in a heap of trouble. Someone shot Todd's date earlier in the evening. When Marice goes to help the police investigate the office the shots were fired from, they find a bomb and nearly get themselves blown up.
CAUTION - STRONG LANGUAGE
CAUTION - STRONG LANGUAGE
On the way to the motel, Marice's phone rang. She cringed. It as her boss, Alvin Ripley.
"Houston! What the hell is going on down there? Why haven't you called? No, don't tell me. You're in the thick of it, getting shot at and blown up."
"Jesus H. Christ, Houston. You didn't get your man shot again, did you?"
"No, Todd's date got shot. She's critical. Then her office blew up."
"Were you there?"
"What do you think?"
"Your ass on fire?"
"Well, it will be if you don't stop f**king around and get to the bottom of this!"
"Is that an order, sir?"
"That's a don't f**k this up, Houston! I swear to god, trouble comes looking for you. I never met a woman so good at finding ways to let someone kill her off. Were you born under a bad sign? Cursed at birth? Did you piss off your fairy godmother?"
She didn't reply. Al was in full rant mode. He wasn't going to stop anytime soon. If she said a word, he was likely to rip her a new asshole.
"Help me out here, Marice. How do you get into all this shit? You Super Girl now, or something? Is your super power, f**king shit up?"
"Good answer. To that end, the not f**king it up, that is. I'm sending help."
"Have the police asked for our help?"
"Someone tried to blow up my favorite deputy. I don't give a hickey in in a high wind if they want us there or not. I can stomp in wearing jackboots and f**k all their shit up. Do I need to do that?"
"Good. Make no mistake, I will do what it takes to keep you safe. I made a promise to that man of yours. If that means I put you riding a desk for the next slice of forever, I can make that happen. I like you, Houston. f**k knows why, you're a pain in my hemorrhoids. But I will slap you on a desk so fast, it will make your head spin."
"Thank you for the help. I'm sure Detective Scrivener will appreciate it."
"Appreciate what?" Darla asked, flashing her a look. She could hear just enough of Al's rant to know he was furious.
"He's sending help. He's also threatening to take over the case."
"Let him. Things are too damn exciting with you around."
"Praise be, one of you has a lick of sense. Where can we find you?"
"At Todd's motel."
"Might have known he'd be mixed up in this. Karma's a bitch, Houston. You f**k with her, you're going down." He hung up.
© 2017 Dellani Oakes