Chapter 2

A soft arm flung over Steele’s chest woke him. His eyes opened and he held his breath, letting it out quietly when he saw Sally lying peacefully on her side next to him. All the stress was gone from her face. Maybe she had been right. Maybe being with him was what she had needed. He glanced at the clock on the end table. Only about two hours sleep. He stifled the yawn.

Steele lifted her arm with the fingertips of his thumb and index finger and slid out from under it, laying it gently back down as he rolled off the bed. He was pulling up his briefs when Sally’s eyes fluttered open. She stared at him and then her eyes widened. Sally lunged for the blanket at the foot of the bed and yanked it up to her chin as she lay back down.

“Thank you,” Sally said.

“For what?”

“For being there for me. You were great.”

“You were pretty good yourself.”

Sally blushed and lowered her eyes. She looked back at him. “The sex was terrific, but that’s not what I meant. I felt so empty. So alone. And you were there for me. I’ll never forget that.”

“I need to get back to the motel. Wilks is probably up and worrying. Too bad there’s not a motel in this town.”

“There is.”

Steele had one leg in his pants, bent over with the other foot hung in the air. “There is? You told me to stay in the other one.”

“There’s only one in this town. The Old South Inn. It’s owned by the police chief’s brother. They’re not very nice to people like me.”

“If I’m going to snoop around, I need to blend in. Sounds just like the right place. Where is it?”

“Southern Road and Robert E Lee Street.”

Steele buckled his belt and put on his shirt. While tucking it in, he said, “If you see me in town, you can’t let on that you know me. I’m a stranger to you. Understand?”

Sally nodded. “What are you going to do?”

“What I do best.”

Steele sat on the side of the bed. “Will you be okay?” he asked.

“Yes. Don’t worry about me. I was in a scary place, but I’m fine now.”

Steele leaned over, kissed her forehead, and left. He drove back to the motel in the neighboring town.

Wilks crossed his arms when Steele entered the motel room. “I thought I had two missing persons.”

“Got some shut-eye at Sally’s. Didn’t want to leave her alone.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Better. I need to buy a pickup.”

“What! Why?”

“I need to blend in. And I’m changing motels so we’ll need two cars. We can’t be seen together.”

The two visited three used car lots before finding a five-year-old black Ford pickup. The sales manager balked at a personal check so Steele had his bank wire the money along with some extra.

Steele drove to the Old South Inn. In the lobby, a large Confederate flag was nailed to the wall behind the counter. A smaller Mississippi flag hung below it. The man behind the counter sat with his chair tilted back, his legs straight out, and the heels of his cowboy boots planted on the counter. His blonde hair was short-cropped. The man looked away from the television sitting on the counter when Steele entered. He eyeballed Steele.

“Can I help you?” the man asked.

“Looking for a room.”

“You ain’t from around here.”

“That’s why I need a room.”

“How long?”

“Depends?”

“On what?”

“If I like it here. Looking for the right place.”

“And what would that be?”

Steele stared at the man with a poker face. “A place people don’t ask many questions.”

The man tsked before asking, “On the run?”

“Law’s not looking for me. Look, can I get a room?”

The man’s feet dropped to the floor. “Can’t quite make out your accent. Sounds like you’ve spent time in the South, but you ain’t a Southern boy.”

“I’ve traveled around in the military. A lot of it in the South. A lot in North Carolina and Georgia.”

“Airborne, huh? Been to Bragg. Had some good-old friends there. Georgia? Must be Ft. Benning. That’s Special Ops shit, right? So you’re a badass mother-fucker, but you ain’t a Southerner.”

“Who is? The niggers took over--” Steele glanced over his shoulder and back at the man. “Look, I don’t want no trouble. Just a room.”

The man stood up and held his hand out. “No trouble from me. Name’s Bufford. Friends call me Buff.”

“What should I call you?”

He smiled. One front tooth was missing. “Buff.”

Steele shook his hand. “I’m Linc.”

“We’re gonna get along real good. We take all credit cards.”

“I’ll pay cash.”

Bufford raised an eyebrow. “Sure you ain’t on the run? ‘Cause if you are, my brother can help. We take care of our own.”

“I’m okay with the law. I just don’t see eye to eye with credit card companies.”

“Then cash it is. You can have Room 15. It’s on the end. More privacy.”