Clint Ritchie Fan Fiction

The lady, obviously very distraught, fell into the open arms of Dr. Larry Wolek. Being a calm and collected person, he proceeded to attempt to soothe her ruffled feathers.

“Whoa, it’s okay. Hold on to me. We can help you.”

“There’s . . . there’s a man out on my balcony! I think he’s been in my bedroom. Please help me.”

Clint entered the suite of rooms and gave a cursory examination of the living room. It was a rather large suite and extended further than the Buchanans.’ Walking lightly, but quickly, he crossed over to the door he thought must lead to the bedroom. The door was open, but there were no lights on. Outside the living area was the terrace which was similar to but larger than most.

“Viki,” Clint called out, “stay with the woman and ask Larry to monitor this room and the terrace while I check out the bedroom.”

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Clint was down in the Business Center of the hotel, waiting on a fax. Viki had gone down to meet him because she had an idea about finding Karen. It was now after 4 o’clock and Viki thought maybe room service would be delivering a tray to Karen, if she were in the hotel. She quickly informed Clint of her idea and then asked him to meet her at the Room Service Department. “Now, where would Room Service be, anyway?” she asked herself. Seeing a bellman, she asked him where the kitchen was.

“Which kitchen, Madame?”

“The one that provides room service to the guests.”

“But all the restaurants have room delivery service. If the guest chooses from the room menu, the order is channeled to the restaurant that makes that dish. If there are more restaurants involved, it is prepared in steps.”

“So there’s no way to know where my sandwich came from?” asked Viki.

“Was there something wrong with the food sent to your room, Madame? I am so sorry, let me assure you . . .”

“No, you don’t understand,” Viki said. “There’s nothing wrong. I just wanted to talk to one of the waiters that brought my sandwich.”

“Did he act improperly? If so, we will get to the bottom . . .”

“No, you don’t understand,” Viki said again, growing increasingly frustrated. “I just want to talk to him. Oh, never mind, I’ll talk to the manager.”

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“Clint, my back is killing me. Isn’t there anything softer to lie on?”

“Let me go explore. Maybe I can find something.”

Clint ventured off into the dark, sparingly using the small flashlight. He was afraid it wouldn’t last very long. There were mazes of tables, slot machines and stools, but no couches or beds. It looked like 3 casinos had gone out of business and all the equipment from them had landed there. Because the furniture was so haphazardly stored, exploring and maneuvering were difficult. Climbing on top of a “21″ table, Clint shone the light in a big circle. In a corner, he saw a pile of material that appeared to some kind of cloth. Making his way by walking from table to table, he was able to reach the pile and discovered it was a stack of movers’ quilts. They were heavy and soiled, but they would provide cushion and warmth. It was getting increasingly colder as the night progressed — and it would get colder still.

“Hey, Honey, I found some quilts!” Clint called to Viki. “This is our lucky night.”

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Clint was just finishing his coffee and Viki was silently tossing toast scraps from the balcony to the gulls when, suddenly, Clint jumped up. “This is no good. Let’s get it over with. Call Larry, get him here and get it done! I can’t stand this ax hanging over our heads.”

“I suppose you’re right. I was just thinking. . . it’s about 4 a.m. in Llanview. Maybe Larry hasn’t gone to bed yet. It hasn’t been that long since he called here.”

“Do you mind? Will you do it? I’m just fed up to here,” Clint said, indicating an imaginary line just below his nose.

“Well, only if I can kiss you below the line!” Viki lightly smacked him on the lips and turned to stand behind him. She rubbed his neck and shoulders and, as she did so, could feel some of the tenseness ease away. Sometimes Clint could be gruff, but his sense of humor was always there. Not enough jokes, though, this morning. She could tell he was really taking this hard.

“I’ll go call now.” Viki started for the terrace door, but Clint captured her hand and pulled her down into his lap. Just the very corners of his lips turned up in a bittersweet smile and she could tell by his silence that he was worried. Clint didn’t like to be worried. He usually could fix anything: the car, the plumbing, the machines at the Banner. This was going to be a greater challenge and lives could very well hang in the balance.

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The country is a tiny one on the coast of France, but its legend is known far and wide. The beautiful landscape, the silvery blue of the Mediterranean Sea, the kingdom of princes and princesses all combine to make the perfect vacation spot. The history, the wineries, the casinos are a contrast to what is now Monaco, a haven for jet-setters, celebrities, artists and royalty. It is only natural that Viki and Clint Buchanan would feel right at home in this city of pleasure. Of course, everywhere they go they re-discover their love for one another, so every trip is not only a vacation, but a journey of love.Clint, a very handsome man, was dressed in his best and most beautiful black tux. His lover and wife, Viki, was wearing a red sequined and spangled formal, fit for a queen. As they often do, they were playing roulette amidst a large crowd of gorgeous royalty and jet-setters in the fabulous casino of their hotel. Shamelessly winning, they were approached by the Manager who told Clint that a “gentlemen” was seeking him on the veranda.

Outside, a tall, dark and mysterious man stood on that veranda, shielding his face from the light. Clint moved silently to the opposite side of the veranda before allowing his presence to be known. Who was this dark and mysterious stranger? Was it really someone from the dark side of Llanview’s past? Someone everyone thought was no longer a threat to the wonderful people of Llanview?

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