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“You’re coming with us,” Max said emphatically. “You’ll be safe at my mother’s home for now. We’ll figure the rest out later.”
She looked up with watery eyes. “They killed my fish.”
“Why don’t you let me drive?” Max whispered to Sebastian. “You sit in back with Morgan until she wraps her head around this. We can stop in the next town and mail the ledger. I also need to buy some clothes and toiletries.”
“Are we driving all the way to Maine?” Sebastian asked, opening his door.
“I’m still working that out,” Max said.
Chapter Thirty-One
They were about 100 miles northeast of Winston-Salem when the sun finally peaked out of the gray rain clouds. They stopped in a small town with two traffic lights, a discount store, a gas station, a grocery store, and a tiny post office. Bash waited in the car while Max and Morgan took the ledger inside. They purchased the appropriate size box and sent the package express mail to Max’s mother’s P.O. Box in Maine.
As they were walking back to the car, Max said, “You doing okay?”
She gave him a weak smile. “It’s a relief to get it out of my hands, if only temporarily.” He nodded in agreement.
After a trip through the discount store, where Max was surprised to learn you didn’t have to pay $500 for a pair of jeans, they headed to the car with their arms loaded with packages.
“Just to be safe, we need to change our vehicle,” Max said.
“What about an RV?” Morgan said, pointing to a large billboard.
Max followed her finger with his eyes. The sign read Mountain Road RV Sales and Rental.
“That’s a damn good idea, Morgan,” Max said with enthusiasm. “Five miles down the road. This should be fun!”
Bash started the car and turned to Max. “What will be fun?”
“Figuring out the sleeping arrangements,” he smirked.
Max would have preferred the 44-foot class-A recreational vehicle due to the additional space, but Morgan reminded him they didn’t need to draw attention to themselves. According to the salesman, the smaller version had more than enough space to accommodate three people comfortably. Max listened to the sales pitch and agreed to purchase a barely used 2020 model at a reduced price. A quick wire transfer from an untraceable account he shared with his mother and the traveling motel was all his. He mused that his friends would find his new acquisition quite out of character for him.
As a condition of the purchase, the salesman agreed to drop off their car rental at the nearest airport. After the paperwork was completed, the salesman did a brief orientation of the amenities and how to operate and maintain the vehicle. As Max stared blankly at the keys in his hand, it dawned on him that he had no idea if he could even drive the thing. Morgan must have seen the sheer panic in his eyes because she swooped to the rescue.
“I’ve got this, y’all. Let’s get loaded.”
Morgan explained that her Pops had allowed her to help drive an 18-wheeler across the country to deliver classic cars. She reasoned the RV would be much easier to maneuver. Max had a ton of questions about how that was even possible but decided he preferred not to know.
Who is this woman? He knew the story of the sheltered life Morgan lived with her Pops, the ex-motorcycle outlaw, but the skills she possessed could rival some of his best security guards. For some reason, that didn’t jive with the whole kindergarten teacher thing. He liked her and wanted to believe she was exactly who she appeared to be, but the cautious side of him hoped he wasn’t being played. Except for his mother, he had grown up in a den of vipers. It was hard for him to stop expecting to find them in the most unlikely places.
Although it would make the trip longer, they decided it would be best to stay off the major interstates. They mapped out obscure routes through the mountains and foothills through Virginia, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, and western New York. Then, they would head northeast toward Maine. It would keep them off the main Atlantic coastal highways and selfishly give Max time to get to know his son and get a better read on Morgan.
Max admired Morgan’s independent and guileless nature. Sebastian, who he felt had come into his success too easily, needed someone like her in his life to keep him grounded. From what he had gathered, his son had become entirely too dependent on his inner circle. Max understood how easily it could happen when people tried to run interference and insulate you from conflicts and dealing with the tough issues. He had been there himself, and it had cost him the only thing that truly mattered—Izzy.
The shock of learning she had died gutted him, but he refused to dwell on it. He had prayed he would see her again. Happy. Enjoying her son and grandchildren. He imagined she had married years ago, but he refused to believe anyone could replace what they had shared. He was secretly glad no one had. There was no way he could make up for the years away from Sebastian. He would never let that happen again. Building a relationship with his son and protecting him from the Fontana family was his highest priority. And because Morgan had risked her life to save Sebastian, Max would help her find a way out of the crosshairs of the biker gang and the FBI.
Max received a call from Gavin Nordstrom at 5 p.m. on a new burner phone he had purchased.
“Max.”
“Mr. Fontana, this is Gavin.” His voice was shaky, his breathing rapid.
“What happened?” Max asked, sensing the worst.
“Well… I let my son Shawn take care of planting the phone and watching the building for you. He and his wife need the money. There is a small ten-room motel on the outskirts of town that’s been abandoned for close to fifteen years. Rumor is the owners skipped town to avoid a foreclosure. Been sitting with a condemned sign on it for years. It fits your criteria. Shawn said the doors and windows were boarded up tight. Probably didn’t want squatters in there causing trouble. He turned on the cell and wedged it inside a broken light fixture under one of the outside eves. He was 100% sure no one could have been inside.
“The motel is across the road from a steep wooded foothill. Shawn took his backpack with supplies and settled on a ridge behind some evergreens. Two black SUVs with six men in dark suits showed up around 1 p.m. Some were carrying AR-15s. They broke down the doors with an ax and searched every room. Didn’t find the burner phone until they called it. That’s when the hollering started. I guess those men figured out they had been bamboozled. One guy made a bunch of calls.
