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“It’s Sebastian. Where are you?”
“Just pulled into the post office. Got stuck by a damn train. Why? Anything wrong?”
“Morgan and I will be there within 10 minutes.”
“Mamma’s car?” he asked calmly.
“Yeah. She offered it to Morgan this morning.”
Max turned around and looked at his mother, seated in the back seat. She must have known who it was because she plastered an innocent expression on her face.
“I was afraid Morgan wouldn’t be willing to sit this one out. Let her silence fool me,” Max chuckled.
“Not me,” said Sebastian. “I was waiting for her outside when she blew right past me. Had to chase her down. We’ll be parked down the block to watch for anything unusual. She’s packing. Perez was extremely clear about federal property and firearms. Neither one of us want to be somebody’s prison bitch. Talk to you soon.”
“Tell her not to do any of that hero crap,” Max growled before hanging up.
“Don’t have to guess what that was about,” Sam said.
“Suppose this is what we get for not including her. I just hope this goes as smoothly as our overly confident FBI agent believes.”
Agent Perez knocked on the passenger window. “Let’s go people.”
“He’s a real charmer, isn’t he?” Gia mumbled under her breath before scooting out of the car.
“I like your Mamma,” Sam whispered to Max.
“She can be a pistol,” he said, shaking his head. “She gave Morgan her car.”
Sam burst out laughing.
The U.S. Post Office was a typical, small-town single brick building. The parking lot held twelve cars, six spaces in front of the building and six on the opposite side of a one-way drive that ran parallel to the street. Max hoped Sam’s men were close.
In the small lobby, there were three stations for customers to do their mail transactions. Nearing lunchtime, it was quite busy. As they headed down an adjoining hall to the post boxes, Max noticed Agent Perez scan the room for potential threats.
Except for a few retail catalogs, his mother’s post box was empty. The agent’s expression transformed into a scowl.
“Guess we will…” Gia began to say but stopped when Agent Perez stepped into Max’s personal space.
“Do you realize that any deviation from the agreement Ms. Skylar signed will be null and void if we do not gain procession of the ledger today? If she’s trying to hold out for something more, she is not going to like the consequences.”
“Look, Perez…” Max began.
Gia held up her hands in frustration. “Cool your jets, Agent Impatience. If you weren’t so busy expecting the worst of people, you would have noticed a ledger would never fit in the box. The clerks usually leave me a note directing me to the counter for anything too large. Either they forgot to leave a note, or it fell out when they stuffed it with catalogues.”
Max bit back a snicker.
“Wait here,” the agent said, then walked back into the lobby. When he came back, he said, “It’s clear, but the lines are long. The middle counter is the shortest.”
The longer they were exposed to the public, the more nervous Max became. His mother grabbed his hand and squeezed, her eyes focused on his fists, clenching and unclenching. It seemed that every person in front of them had a problem.
“Next,” a perky twenty-something woman finally called. The trio stepped up to the counter.
“Good morning, dear. I think I have a package that was too big for the box. The name is Linda Martin, P.O. Box 112.”
The clerk did a few keystrokes on the computer and glanced up. “Sure do, Ms. Martin. I’ll go get it out of the back. Be right back.”
“Thank you.”
