his car safely lost in a sea of other returns, he entered an office staffed by a single clerk with a phone to his ear and two lines blinking. The clerk hung up and looked at Adam expectantly.
Adam put his rental paperwork on the counter. “I know you’re really slammed, but this car’s running pretty rough. I’m afraid the last renter put some cheap gas into it before turning it in.”
The clerk frowned at the telephone with its blinking buttons. “I’m sorry. Why don’t we put you in another vehicle?”
Adam had given this some thought. Jameson was a typical midsized north Texas town. The vast majority of vehicles on the street were either pickups or SUVs. “Sure.” Adam paused as though considering a fresh idea. “How about a pickup?”
Adam had barely finished speaking when the clerk pulled a set of keys from a drawer and pushed them toward him. “No problem. Got a Ford F-150, and I’ll let you have it for the same price as the car you’re driving. Slot 18A. Enjoy.”
By now, new calls had added more blinking buttons to the phone. When the young man picked up the handset and took the next call, Adam eased the rental papers he’d been ready togive the clerk back into his pocket. Apparently the person on the other end of the phone had a significant bone to pick with the car rental company and had the clerk’s full attention. During the heated exchange that followed, Adam hurried out the door.
Great. Now the rental company’s paperwork showed his previous car, while he was driving the most common vehicle in the city.
A shiny black pickup waited for Adam in 18A. Perfect. He tossed his briefcase inside, adjusted the mirror and seat, and headed out of the lot. He still had to run those errands. After that, if Carrie agreed to see him, he needed a safe place for them to meet.
He didn’t want to bring Carrie to his apartment for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was that the shooter probably knew where he lived. After the incident with the firebomb, it was obvious that the law office wasn’t safe. And under no circumstances did Adam want to lead his stalker to Carrie’s house. He needed a safe base of operation, not only a place to meet Carrie, but somewhere he could relax without fearing he’d be murdered in his sleep.
He’d check into a motel, and he had the perfect location in mind. He’d need to pick up clothes and toiletries from his apartment. Maybe if he parked a block away, went through alleys and used the back entrance, he could avoid detection. Not now, though. He’d postpone that until after dark.
Adam needed cash, so his first stop was an ATM, where he withdrew the daily maximum from his account. No problem there. Adam had one more stop to make. Then he’d be ready to go to ground.
After his next errand he climbed into his new pickup andtook a roundabout route to one of the motels that ringed the outer part of the city. The one he chose wasn’t part of a chain, but a small, family-owned motel that featured a row of cabins set back from the highway. He checked in and paid cash for three days.
When he filled out his registration, Adam put down a fictitious address and transposed two digits of his license plate. He entered Ford for his last name. Adam thought a moment before adding the first name Edward , figuring the clerk was too young to remember the Yankee pitcher Whitey Ford.
Once in his room, Adam used the prepaid cell phone he’d just purchased to call Carrie. She answered on the first ring. “Carrie, it’s me, Adam.” He took a deep breath. “I know I said I’d wait for you to call, but I can’t wait any longer. Can you meet me at the Rancho Motel after dark?”
“Adam, I don’t—”
“I’m in a motel for a reason,” he hurried on. “I’m staying away from my apartment for now. There are parking areas in both front and back of a row of cabins. Park in the back, close to the breezeway where the ice machine is. Then walk straight through and turn left.
Adam put his rental paperwork on the counter. “I know you’re really slammed, but this car’s running pretty rough. I’m afraid the last renter put some cheap gas into it before turning it in.”
The clerk frowned at the telephone with its blinking buttons. “I’m sorry. Why don’t we put you in another vehicle?”
Adam had given this some thought. Jameson was a typical midsized north Texas town. The vast majority of vehicles on the street were either pickups or SUVs. “Sure.” Adam paused as though considering a fresh idea. “How about a pickup?”
Adam had barely finished speaking when the clerk pulled a set of keys from a drawer and pushed them toward him. “No problem. Got a Ford F-150, and I’ll let you have it for the same price as the car you’re driving. Slot 18A. Enjoy.”
By now, new calls had added more blinking buttons to the phone. When the young man picked up the handset and took the next call, Adam eased the rental papers he’d been ready togive the clerk back into his pocket. Apparently the person on the other end of the phone had a significant bone to pick with the car rental company and had the clerk’s full attention. During the heated exchange that followed, Adam hurried out the door.
Great. Now the rental company’s paperwork showed his previous car, while he was driving the most common vehicle in the city.
A shiny black pickup waited for Adam in 18A. Perfect. He tossed his briefcase inside, adjusted the mirror and seat, and headed out of the lot. He still had to run those errands. After that, if Carrie agreed to see him, he needed a safe place for them to meet.
He didn’t want to bring Carrie to his apartment for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was that the shooter probably knew where he lived. After the incident with the firebomb, it was obvious that the law office wasn’t safe. And under no circumstances did Adam want to lead his stalker to Carrie’s house. He needed a safe base of operation, not only a place to meet Carrie, but somewhere he could relax without fearing he’d be murdered in his sleep.
He’d check into a motel, and he had the perfect location in mind. He’d need to pick up clothes and toiletries from his apartment. Maybe if he parked a block away, went through alleys and used the back entrance, he could avoid detection. Not now, though. He’d postpone that until after dark.
Adam needed cash, so his first stop was an ATM, where he withdrew the daily maximum from his account. No problem there. Adam had one more stop to make. Then he’d be ready to go to ground.
After his next errand he climbed into his new pickup andtook a roundabout route to one of the motels that ringed the outer part of the city. The one he chose wasn’t part of a chain, but a small, family-owned motel that featured a row of cabins set back from the highway. He checked in and paid cash for three days.
When he filled out his registration, Adam put down a fictitious address and transposed two digits of his license plate. He entered Ford for his last name. Adam thought a moment before adding the first name Edward , figuring the clerk was too young to remember the Yankee pitcher Whitey Ford.
Once in his room, Adam used the prepaid cell phone he’d just purchased to call Carrie. She answered on the first ring. “Carrie, it’s me, Adam.” He took a deep breath. “I know I said I’d wait for you to call, but I can’t wait any longer. Can you meet me at the Rancho Motel after dark?”
“Adam, I don’t—”
“I’m in a motel for a reason,” he hurried on. “I’m staying away from my apartment for now. There are parking areas in both front and back of a row of cabins. Park in the back, close to the breezeway where the ice machine is. Then walk straight through and turn left.
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