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“Funny thing. She said the same thing. Like I says before. Musta been somethin’ special in the garage.”
“Let’s just say there were some sentimental things that were discarded without notifying other members of the household.”
“Well, I reckon if you want to make it worth my while . . .”
Clive veered from anything sounding incriminating. “What I mean is that I realize your time is valuable and I would want to compensate you for it. Whatever the woman gave you, I will double.”
Nelson thought for a moment. Should he jack up the price? Nah. Somebody might find out. Shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. What he did know is that he was about to be $3,000 richer than he was when he woke up that morning. “She sent a grand through PayPal.”
“And when was this?” Clive asked casually.
“About an hour ago, I reckon.”
“OK.” Clive was well aware the connection for either the phone or Internet could go down any second. He had to get this negotiation over with as quickly as possible.
“Can you send me a payment request now, Mr. Nelson? Here is my e-mail address.” Clive rattled it off to him.
“Sure can. Love this here kinda technology. Makes getting paid and payin’ folks a lot easier.”
Clive was thinking,Enough of the chitter-chatter, but he didn’t want to push Mr. Nelson. He might sound like a bit of a hick, but he certainly wasn’t clueless when it came to financial exchanges.
“If you could do that now, I would appreciate it. We’re having a bit of wind where I am, and the power lines keep cutting in and out.”
“You got it, captain. One sec.” Nelson didn’t want to lose out on his windfall.
In less than a minute, a ding on Clive’s computer indicated an e-mail had been received. He clicked on it, then to PayPal. In a few seconds, the money had been transferred to George Nelson.
There was a long, empty silence, until Nelson declared, “OK, got the payment. Thank you. Here is the information. A guy named Cullen Bodman just outside of Asheville, North Carolina. He’s in a place called the Stillwell Art Center.” Clive was writing as fast as Nelson was talking.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Nelson. You’ve been extremely helpful.” Clive rolled his eyes. Yeah, help to the tune of $2,000, plus the thousand Rowena had sent him. Mr. George Nelson had certainly hit the jackpot that evening.
Clive turned to Logan and Colette. “We have a name. Now we need to contact him.” Just then, the small wheel in the search bar started to spin, and after a few seconds it spit out a notice:
NO INTERNET SERVICE. CHECK YOUR CONNECTION.
Clive let out a big huff. “If I know Rowena, she is on her way to Asheville by now.”
“At this hour?” Logan seemed surprised.
“That woman will leave no stone unturned.” Clive thought for a moment. “I’m going to have to get to a phone and call that Cullen fellow.”
“Dad, it’s past midnight. No one is open within thirty miles of here.”
“Well, then, I’m just going to have to drive until I get cell service.” Clive put the piece of paper in his pocket.
“Dad, are you sure this is a good idea? Can’t it wait until morning?” Logan was almost pleading with his father.
“Son, you’ve met Rowena. She will stop at nothing. I need to warn those people.” Clive started out of his den.
“You want me to go with you?” Logan was following him.
“No. You stay here with Colette and Max. I’ll be fine. The wind’s died down. The phone and Internet lines should be up and running soon, but I don’t want to wait.”
Colette was almost in tears. “Do you really have to do this now?”
“My dear young woman, someone went to a lot of trouble to find you. Where you worked and where you lived. And then he lied about who he was. Don’t think for one minute that was the beginning or the end of this. The Millstones are desperate people. And if Arthur is in as much trouble as I suspect, they are beyond desperate, if there is such a thing.”
Colette was shaking. Logan put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s going to be OK. Dad can handle this.” Logan looked at his father, hoping for a sign of encouragement. Clive gave a nod.
