holding the door for the woman, then giving her another proprietary pat on the rear as she passed. They were dressed as hed seen them before, and there was nothing in their appearance to indicate theyd spent the preceding fifty minutes doing anything more adventurous than watching Indianas own David Letterman, but Keller suspected otherwise.
Cmon , he urged them silently. Leave the door open.
And for a moment he thought they were going to, but no, the son of a bitch had to reach for the handle and pull the thing shut. They walked toward their car, and then the guy held up something, a white card of some sort, and offered it to the woman. She backed away, holding up her hands as if to ward the thing off, and he reached to tuck it into her purse, and she grabbed it away from him and threw it at him. He ducked and it sailed over his shoulder, and they both laughed and walked the rest of the way to their car, his hand on her behind once again, and Keller watched where the white card landed because now he knew what it was.
The room key, of course. Here, honey, a little souvenir of the evening. Let me just tuck it in your purse. Keller picked it up and brushed it off, tried it in the lock, opened the door. Then he went back for his suitcase and wheeled it to his room, just like any legitimate tourist.
12
He was awake before the maid started her rounds. He had another shower, and shaved, and put on clean clothes. He had one more change of underwear in his bag, and a clean pair of socks, and after that hed have to start recycling the dirty ones, because he couldnt afford to wash his clothes or buy new ones.
Two and a half million dollars in investments and he couldnt afford underwear.
Nobody was going to dust the room for prints, but he wiped it down anyway, out of habit. Back in the Sentra, he ate the last hamburger and drank some bottled water and pretended hed just had a hearty breakfast. He threw out the cold french fries, the cement milkshake.
He started the car, checked the gas gauge. He would be needing gas soon, and he supposed he could spare a twenty.
At first glance, he wasnt entirely certain the gas station was open, or even still in business. The basic setup was fairly standard, a pint-size convenience store with a couple of pumps out in front, an air hose and a pay phone off to one side. The only vehicle in sight was a tow truck parked around back.
Was anybody home? Keller pulled up to the pump, where a home-made sign instructed all customers, cash or credit, to pay inside before pumping gas. Something felt off to Keller, and he thought about driving on to the next station, but hed already passed up a couple of opportunities, and pretty soon hed be running on faith and fumes.
He patted his hair down, put on his blazer and made sure it concealed the gun in the small of his back. Why couldnt the happy fornicators at the Travelodge have left something useful, along with a set of spectacularly soiled sheets? A baseball cap, say, or a bottle of hair dye, or a few hundred dollars and a collection of live credit cards.
Keller had a twenty in hand when he cleared the threshold. Behind the counter sat a stocky man with a broad forehead and a nose that had been broken at least once. Iron-gray hair cut short enough for boot camp showed around the edges of a baseball cap on which an embroidered Homer Simpson held up a mug of beer. The man was reading a magazine, and Keller would have bet anything it wasnt Soap Opera Digest . Nor did he seem to find his magazine as gripping as the girl had found hers, because he looked up from it before Keller could open his mouth or put the money on the counter.
Help you?
Twenty dollars worth of regular, Keller said, and handed him the bill.
Hang on a second, the man said, catching Keller just as he was turning around. He turned back, and the man was taking a good look at the twenty. Jesus, was there
anything wrong with it?
Been some funny twenties around lately, the man said. This here looks to be okay.
Keller would have said hed just made it himself, but couldnt count on the man recognizing it for a joke. It came straight out of an ATM, he said instead.
Is that a fact.
Suspicious old bastard. Keller said, Well, if everythings okay, and started for the door again, but the voice stopped him in his tracks.
No, hold it right there, son. And turn around slow, you hear?
Keller turned, and was not surprised to see the gun in the mans hand. It was an automatic, and looked like a cannon to Keller.
Im not too good with names, the man said, but it seems like youve got a few of them, and whos to say any of ems the right one? Keep your hands where I can see em, you understand?
Youre making a mistake, Keller said.
Your damn pictures all over the place, son. And if Im not much on names Im pretty good on faces. Bet theres a pretty decent reward on you.
By God, Keller said. You think Im the son of a bitch who shot that man in Iowa.
Shot that high-stepping coon, the man said. Well, if you had to gun somebody down, I got no problem with the choice you made. But that dont mean God gave you the right to do it.