18
Situated on a hilltop, the Beachside Motel, as the name implied, overlooked a vast stretch of beach. Gray sand stretched before them like some vast desert, both to the north and the south.
Green walls of foam-capped ocean waves beat mercilessly against the gray beach as if pounding it into submission.
The motel was a two-story wooden structure painted navy blue with light gray trim.
Bruce parked the Chevette in a spot by the motel office. In front of them was a sign made from a piece of weathered driftwood, hanging over a yellow door, confirming this indeed as the office.
Since it was late, the door was closed and there was no light from inside.
It wasn’t tourist season, so there would be few guests staying here.
Opening the hatch, Trudy pulled out her black leatherette shoulder
