Ordinary People

By E E Montgomery

When Queensland Police Force Constable James Laramee raids a hotel room, he finds Vinnie Canterbury on top of a naked, dead man, covered in blood. Vinnie promptly vomits all over James’s shoes.

Thanks to a cocktail of horse sedatives and Hendra vaccine, Vinnie’s memories of his ordeal are fractured. Finding the culprits and the reasons behind his abduction will be a challenge. With his apartment trashed, his building set on fire, and his clothes, phone and wallet gone, Vinnie needs a place to stay. To his surprise, James not only takes him in, but also lets him cry on his shoulder. It must be true love. Vinnie has plans for his future with James all mapped out, and he hopes he can get James on the same page.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
• Release date: May 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781627986908

E E Montgomery

For E E Montgomery, writing is the thread that stitches the fragments of a curious mind into myriad imaginary worlds.  A dedicated people-watcher, E E finds stories everywhere. In a cafe, a cemetery, a book on space exploration or on the news: there’ll be a story of personal growth, love, and unconditional acceptance there somewhere. E E Montgomery has published short stories, novellas and novels across genres (contemporary, historical, romance, science fiction and fantasy) since 2011. You can contact E E Montgomery at [e-mail]; on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ewynelaine.montgomery; on Twitter: @EEMontgomery1; on Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+EEMontgomery; or at her web site: http://www.eemontgomery.com/ and blog: http://www.eemontgomery.com/blog.

Book preview

do.

Chapter One

MOST PEOPLE are ordinary people, living ordinary lives. Their trials and challenges are ordinary too, yet they absorb them totally. Take Vinnie Canterbury as an example. You’d think with the half-Italian, half-English heritage he’d have a life different to others, but he doesn’t. He gets up every morning, showers, eats breakfast, and goes to his job as an assessor for an insurance company. At the end of the day, he goes home, eats, watches TV, and goes to bed. On the weekends he jogs, cleans his house, and goes out with friends. Once a month he has dinner with his mother. Very ordinary.

So how do you explain what happened to him last Thursday?

THE BODY was found at the Gold Coast’s Pink Lady Motel. Vinnie didn’t know anything about it until the manager let the police into his room.

Sudden light pierced his fragile eyelids. The yelling that accompanied it reverberated around in his head like a stone in an empty drum. Vinnie groaned.

The swish-click of sidearms being drawn and cocked penetrated his consciousness and Vinnie sat up, his heart pounding, breath gasping in his dry throat. The bright copper stench of blood turned his stomach. He stared at the man he’d been sleeping on, his gaze drawn to the wide red slash that had been his neck. Vinnie lurched sideways, away from the obscene image in front of him, and vomited all over one of the cop’s shoes.

Police! Don’t move! a man yelled.

Hands on your head! That voice was female.

What? What’s going on? What’s…? Oh God! The room spun around Vinnie, the blue-clad police officers around him blurred like cars going too fast on a rainy night.

Don’t move!

Fuck! He’s… eew!

Hold your position, Laramee. Vinnie twisted his head to see the owner of the imperious voice. She was small. Vinnie blinked again and watched her grow and pulse. Soon, the eerie sci-fi music would begin. His head grew too heavy and he let it droop over the edge of the bed again.

But he’s—

Hold your position!

Someone grabbed Vinnie’s hair and dragged him off the bed. They pushed him facedown into the sticky, stinking carpet, gripped his wrist, and twisted it behind him. Vinnie whimpered, breathed in the stench, realized why the carpet seemed warm under his cheek, and retched again. Nothing came out this time except stringy slime.

Aah. He did it again.

The paramedics are here. Laramee, you go with them.

Vinnie used the bed to climb to his feet. Slime trailed from his mouth and slapped cold against his chest. He stumbled and would have fallen if a broad hand hadn’t been holding his arm. His head pounded, and his stomach churned again. He squinted against the light coming through the door.

Wait for the paramedics, sir. They’ll take you to the hospital. The deep voice sounded like it was inside Vinnie’s head.

Wait. He swallowed and tried again. Wait. Vinnie lifted his head and peered around the room. Where am I? His gaze landed on the bed: white skin, red blood. Oh God. He moaned and closed his eyes again. His head filled with white noise like a soft down quilt protecting him from everything outside.

A voice broke his clouded thoughts. Do you want me to get his clothes?

There was a pause before the response. Nothing here. Check the bathroom.

Empty.

Where are your clothes?

Vinnie opened his eyes again. Clothes? He looked down and noticed the cool air over his skin for the first time. He was streaked with something dark and damp. He moved his arms, flailing and uncoordinated. He couldn’t cover himself. I’m naked. He looked at the policeman next to him, then turned his back to the bed. Where am I? His breath rasped in his throat and his heart pounded. What’s happening?

The grip on his arm tightened. Come on. Let the paramedics help you.

He took a few tottering steps toward the door, but stopped, digging his heels into the gritty carpet. I can’t go outside. I’m naked. I’ll get arrested.

You’re already under arrest, sir. The policeman with the spew on his shoes, Laramee, tugged again on his arm.

Arrested? But why? Vinnie bent over as pain rolled through him. Vaguely, he realized the pain had been there since he woke, but standing made it worse. Oh God, I hurt. What happened?

Laramee, arrange for the usual drug tests.

Drugs? I don’t do drugs. I’m an insurance assessor. Vinnie tripped over air as he was pulled inexorably onto a low bed. Heavy fabric slapped across his chest. Other people were hovering over him, talking to him, but he sought the eyes of the vomit-man. Vinnie watched the ceiling come closer as he floated off the floor. There was a click and he stopped moving. You go left, said a voice near his feet, and then he drifted through the doorway.

Vinnie’s eyes watered as the strobe light pummeled his retinas. He twisted his head away from the police cars and ambulance parked in front of the room. Shadows shifted outside the room next door, and light flashed before Vinnie realized it was a person with a camera. He whimpered.

There was a bump and the ceiling of a van moved overhead. A man in dark clothing climbed in beside Vinnie and closed the door against his heels. Vinnie turned his head into the blessedly cool pillow, and breathed something other than vomit and blood for the first time since the hotel door opened.

The peace didn’t last long. The man who’d climbed in with him began prodding the back of his hand. "Can you tell me your name?