Hunter tensed, curious how Ethan would handle this. They were skirting very close to the lie the boys had spent all morning rehearsing. It would be the first time Ethan would have to tell it.
Hunter might have to do some damage control.
Ethan shrugged. “I don’t know. My brother Carter runs the shop now that mom’s dead. I haven’t been home in years.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sarah said.
“It’s all right. We weren’t close,” Ethan said.
Hunter was so relieved he could have kissed the man then and there.
“I apologize,” a voice cut in. Fernanda, the imperious Mexican chick who’d been driving the Malibu. She nodded now, at the camera around Sarah’s neck. Fernanda said, “Is that a Nikon F3?”
Sarah looked surprised. “You have a good eye.”
“My family used to own a camera store. That model is… quite valuable.”
“They ran a camera store?” Sarah’s surprise brightened. “You must know something about a good picture.”
“I am not so sure of that.”
“I’ll be developing the film this evening—I have a little lab set up in my bathroom and everything.”
Fernanda smiled but said nothing.
“I’d love your feedback on some of these shots,” Sarah went on. “I’m trying to get better. Maybe make it more than a hobby.”
“I doubt I could help you much. It has been some time since I had anything to do with photography.”
Sarah hesitated, finally reading the room. She shrugged. “Well, stop by if you change your mind. If you knock and I don’t answer, I’m probably developing film in the bathroom. Just let yourself in. It’s not like I need to lock the doors around here, right?”
Hunter tilted his head. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but all these speeches of Sarah’s seemed forced and awkward, like she was trying to perform some rehearsed lines but couldn’t quite sell them. He was getting tired of it, fast.
Or maybe he just wanted to get out of here before Sarah had the chance to get a good look at his face.
Kyla said, “Why wouldn’t you lock your doors?”
A flash of movement in the window pulled Hunter’s attention away. There was a vehicle up on the main road. It was driving from the south, from Mexico, but now it slowed, slowed, slowed. The vehicle was a minivan, a Kia or a Honda, plain and dowdy. The sort of car no one ever paid much attention to. Perfect for moving contraband in this part of the country.
The vehicle took a lazy left and started down the motel’s long drive. For somewhere so remote, the Brake Inn Motel seemed to stay awfully busy.
Kyla and Fernanda froze at the sight of the van, fear printed in their eyes. Fernanda murmured to Kyla, “That is one of Frank’s.”
Sarah’s face lit up. “Do you know Frank?”
Everyone in the room, even Ethan, stared at her.
Fernanda said, “Doyou?”
“Of course. What are your names? I’ll tell him you said hi.”
Kyla tensed. “You’ll do what?”
“Tell Frank you said hi. I’m working on a little project for him, actually. Research.” Sarah tapped a finger to her lips:mum’s the word.“I have a call set with him this evening, after dinner.”
“A call?” Kyla said. “I don’t see any phone lines around here.”
“Frank gave me one of his satellite phones. He wants nightly reports. You know how he is.”
