Goodbye Natalie

Chapter Two: Trouble on the Line

     Fallon Dawn Hunter hadn’t planned on becoming a receptionist when she escaped her dreary existence in tiny Lonely, Kansas over a year ago. Not that there was anything especially wrong with having a hometown where everyone knew each other and doors were left unlocked as a matter of habit. It’s just that when you’re from such a place, every place else seems exciting to the imagination. Now, she found herself in a stuffy shoebox of an office, four floors above Hollywood Boulevard, answering phones for two bosses. If she perched herself atop the sturdy oak desk and peered out the dirty window, through the smog and off in the distance she could just make out the Hollywood sign. Well, the last three letters anyway, O-O-D, which seemed appropriate.

     One boss was a struggling attorney who kept himself busy behind one closed door most of the day. The other door was marked with a non-descript sign reading, ”A-1 Detective Agency”. Fallon Dawn wondered at the marketing genius it took to come up with that catchy business name, but on reflection (and some boring days which lead to her perusing the phone book) realized that A-1 happened to be the first listing under ”Detectives” in the Yellow Pages. Not that it seemed to be helping attract clients, in the six months that she’d been on the job no calls were ever directed to that line. In fact, she’d never met anyone from A-1 and her pay arrived promptly twice a month via U.S. mail, always cash.

     As boring and dreary as the job might seem, she didn’t mind it. It gave her time to read or study new subjects, she took to checking out at least one new book from the library each week with the goal of finishing it within the seven days. She had a system, each new selection had to come from a different row and cover a different topic each time. This week’s was, ”Man of the Woods”, a study of orangutans (Pongo pygmaeus), the largest tree-living mammal and the only great ape in Asia, primarily found in the forests of Borneo and Sumatra. One other caveat was that each new book was chosen blindly, grab and go. Which lead to some interesting choices.

     Another thing she liked about the job was that the attorney, Burl Barnes, was a friendly, decent type and let her take off whenever she liked. She especially appreciated the fact that he didn’t hit on her. She’d had her fill of being chased around desks and it was comforting to know he wasn’t interested in her in that way. Judging by the way he specialized in immigration law and seemed to gravitate towards the younger foreign male clients, Fallon Dawn figured she wasn’t his type.

     She’d arrived in Hollywood with the usual ambitions that so many others seemed to share in common. She had been on the auditions and interviews and call backs. She attended evening and weekend actor’s workshops and had the obligatory headshots done. She even met a producer who convinced her that she was just right for an exciting new picture he was working on and he could arrange a tryout. To calm her nerves he provided champagne and a mild sedative. When she came to, face down in the middle of filming, her three co-stars were in varying stages of undress and very obviously excited to make her acquaintance. She stormed off the set in humiliation and rage. A consoling associate producer hastily offered a monetary apology for ”any inconvenience or misunderstanding”, but also pointed out the fine print in her signed release form.

     The psychological bruises and self-imposed shame took time to heal. Luckily, the video entitled, ”September Dawn”, wasn’t a huge seller and the heavy makeup and blond wig disguised her face. The experience however, did sour her on the movie business and the once optimistic and trusting farmer’s daughter was now a more streetwise and steely-eyed femme fatale type. Fallon Dawn stayed to herself mostly and could spot a come-on a block away. She’d traded her starry dreams for the steady nine-to-five, and her trust in the kindness of strangers for a loaded Colt .25 automatic in her purse.

     When she placed the weekly calls to her aging mom and pop back home, she still let the bubbly old Fallon Dawn show through. Her old dad could tell though that his little girl had changed. There was an edge to her voice that hadn’t been there before. An underlying sadness, different than when she used to go on October hayrides after the harvests, or when she’d laugh freely as he pushed her too high on the rope swing that hung from the huge Cottonwood that grew in the front yard of their modest house with the warm glow of home fires lighting the frosted windows. Sweet, pretty little Fallon Dawn was lost to the world now, and she’d have to find her own way, for better or worse.

     It was another brilliant, sunny and hot L.A. afternoon when the office phone awoke Fallon from her daydreaming. She was more than a little curious when she noticed that it was line two ringing, she answered. ”A-1 Detective Agency, how may I help you?” The voice on the other end was low and gruff and strange to her. In Fallon Dawn’s mind, she envisioned the caller to be dark and mysterious, masked in shadows. It sent a shiver down her spine when he spoke her name. ”Fallon Dawn?” She was taken aback, but recovered quickly.

     ”Yes?”

     The voice was very businesslike. ”Listen carefully, don’t ask questions, and do exactly as I say. There’s a key taped to the underside of your lower left-hand desk drawer, get it.” She complied.

     ”O.K., I got it.”

     ”Is Barnes there?” He asked.

     ”NO, he left for the day.”

     ”Good. Now follow these instructions to the letter. The key opens the A-1 office. In the southeast corner, under the rug, there’s a floor safe. The combination is...” She scrambled for a pen and wrote the numbers quickly. He continued. ”There’s a briefcase in the closet, inside there’s a business card with an address. Place the contents of the safe in the case, lock it, then deliver the briefcase to the address on the card. Can you do all that?”

     Fallon Dawn didn’t really have any time to think, she was just reacting. The stranger seemed to know everything there was about the detective agency’s office and he was very authoritative. She was merely a hired office girl, a neophyte ingénue barely wandering from the nest for the first time. She was intimidated, and a little frightened.

     Her voice was tight. ”Yes.”

     ”That a girl. And Fallon Dawn, don’t tell anyone where you’re going and what you’re doing. Don’t make any calls. Don’t talk to anyone...DON’T look in the envelope. Do you understand?”

     Fallon felt a throbbing in her head from the pulse of her quickening heartbeat. Blood was pumping to her brain furiously and her ears were ringing from the pressure. The only other time she could remember being this alert and tense was when she’d been out walking in the woods one winter day with her dog Bunny Hop. They’d named the smallish mutt that because of the way he hopped over snowdrifts which carried over through the other seasons. Somehow he’d gotten into the habit of hopping no matter where they were going. On this particular outing, Fallon rounded a bend in the path to find Bunny Hop face-to-face with a much larger, and much more vicious looking wild boar. The beast was at least two feet taller than Bunny, but the little dog wasn’t giving ground and the two were in a stand-off in the middle of the path. Bunny was growling fiercely and the boar wasn’t quite sure if he could take him apparently, as it was frozen in rapt attention, snout and fangs poised to strike. All Fallon could do was to start yelling at the top of her lungs, ”BUNNY! BUNNY HOP! You come here this minute! BUNNY! BUNNY!” Over and over she called her little dog. Tears were streaming down her face in adrenaline driven fear and apprehension. She knew that once the two began going at one another there would be no doubt as to the outcome. The boar could easily massacre not only Bunny, but her as well. She was on the shy end of eleven years old and barely as tall as the wild animal. Bunny was situated between her and the boar and obviously her protector. She realized that he would fight to the death to keep it away from her. Her insistent pleas, calling out Bunny’s name finally elicited a quick look her way from the dog. In that instant, the boar took advantage and spun on it’s heels in a blazing fast retreat. Bunny made sure it was long gone then joined his mistress, tail wagging furiously, licking his mug nervously. He wasn’t sure if he was in trouble or just glad to be alive. The two hugged one another in such a heartfelt embrace that Fallon Dawn felt she could never again match that degree of affection for any other living person or thing. She also never thought she’d be that scared again. The familiar surge of adrenaline brought those memories flooding back.

     ”Fallon Dawn, I said, do you understand?”

     ”Yes, yes...I got it.”

     ”Good girl. Be there as soon as you can. And one more thing, make certain you’re not followed.” The phone went dead. Her hands shook slightly as she lit a cigarette and went about the task. The only item in the safe was a plain yellow envelope, sealed and taped. She surveyed the office one last time before shutting off the lights and happened to glance her own reflection in the window. She barely recognized the figure there. It wasn’t her. It wasn’t the sweet, innocent Fallon Dawn Hunter from Lonely, Kansas that she remembered herself to be. The body was different, dressed up in a woman’s clothes. The face was different, what was it? Something in the eyes...fear... indecision...panic? No, it was more like excitement, thrill, intrigue. A little girl grown up? Or just playing grown-up. Maybe that’s why she’d taken up smoking, to make herself look the part. Who was she fooling? Was it all a charade in order to convince herself that she could make it in the big people’s world? Comically, she thought to herself...

     ”Well sweetheart, you’re definitely not in Kansas anymore.”

     She shut the lights and locked the door behind her. In Lonely maybe they left the doors open. Not in L.A. As she made her way down the shiny tiled hallway, the click-clack of her high heels echoed clearly in the waning light. She’d traded snow boots for stilettos, and Bunny Hop for a Colt .25... she patted her purse reassuringly.