Asher blinked. “Dad? Flashy and dangerous?”
Nora grinned. “Apparently, she knows something you don’t. Let’s go.”
They left the Yellow Rose with the pie and drove down the highway to the Tumbleweed.
“Unless you want to go in, I’ll deliver Dad’s pie,” Asher said. “You stay in where it’s warm.”
“I choose the warm, but give him my love.”
“Will do. I won’t be long, and since I’m not staying here, I need to get my overnight bag.” He took one of the little boxes out of the bag, then went inside.
Just watching him go made her shiver. It was amazing what time had done to the man. He was dynamite on two legs. She turned up the fan on the heater at her feet and leaned back to wait.
He came out carrying a duffel bag, tossed it in the back seat, and then got inside. Nora took them home.
They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about their lives apart and debating the different ways they could live the rest of it together. Finally, Nora ended it with the obvious solution.
“I already told you that my office is in my home, in the apartment where I live. It’s all online work alone, or Zoom meetings with corporate bigwigs in other nations. Occasionally, I have to make a trip to Europe or Asia. I’m as much of a liaison as a troubleshooter for the foreign branches, as well as the ones here in the states. One of the big issues is always espionage. Trying to duplicate or steal new technology. I know how to trace the online stuff, and track the thieves trying to sell it online as well.”
Asher was in awe.
“Nora, honey, I want you to know how proud I am of you. And how much I admire who you have become. As long as it doesn’t make work difficult for you, then that works, because I can’t keep my job unless I’m living within the beck and call of the state capitol.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Nora said. “But you fly home tomorrow, and I’m still here sorting out the last bits of my parents’ lives. I don’t expect it to take long, and at the same time, I’m working from here like I work at home, and packing up what to keep and what to let go.”
“Then we make the most of our time here together and deal with what comes next when it’s time.”
She looked up, startled to realize it was already dark outside. She stood and began drawing curtains and pulling down shades. When she saw Ash watching her, she shrugged it off.
“Prying eyes,” she said.
He accepted the answer without commenting, which was a relief. He already knew she lived and worked in a high-rise in Fort Worth, but she was unwilling to ruin their reunion by revealing why she’d climbed an ivory tower and refused to come down. That was for another day.
They made love in the dark, and fell asleep in each other’s arms, and he was gone after daylight, leaving her well-loved and at peace, and with the knowledge that he didn’t snore.
* * *
After their visit to prison, Freddie and Everett Brandt made the decision to abandon the Dallas/Fort Worth area and move to Amarillo. It was a place big enough to get lost in, but close enough to Crossroads to investigate the possibilityof finding their inheritance. They’d bought into that idea really quick, and were already imagining it secreted away in some nook or cranny on the Kingston property.
Freddie’s truck was in a shop back in Mansfield. He’d taken it in for repair, then didn’t have the money to get it out, and a man Everett knew was in jail, awaiting transport to an area prison, so he took it upon himself to pick the lock at the man’s apartment, take the keys to his sports car, and drive it out of the parking lot like he owned it. It was an older model white Mustang, but it ran good, and they needed wheels to get to Amarillo.
They packed up what they could carry from the places they’d been living and abandoned the rest, leaving landlords to clear out the refuse of their lives. Freddie hadn’t worked since his last stint in jail, and Everett was drawing disability from an on-the-job accident three years ago. The way he looked at it, he was set for life, until they found out about the money. After that, all he could think about was one million dollars.
A week later, they were holed up in Amarillo, paying rent by the month in a rehabbed motel that had been turned into apartments, and planning the kind of house they were going to buy after they recovered the loot.
But the hitch in the plan was Jacob Kingston. He still owned the bar and lived on the property. There was never going to be easy access. Still, they decided to pay a visit to the bar, see the layout, and feel the old man out about selling it.
The sun was shining, but the day was cold as they set out for Crossroads, but the car was warm, and the tank was full of gas. They had beer money in their pockets, and a plan they’d cooked up the night before. Everett was well aware of Freddie’s issues. He didn’t always understand, or get things right, and began talking about the plan again as they drove.
“Now Freddie, we have been over this a dozen times, but I want to make sure you remember your role. We’ll go in the bar like regular customers, and I’ll casually ask Kingston if he’s interested in selling the property, right? If he is, then he’ll have to let us at least look around to check it out,” Everett said. “But we don’t call each other by our real names. I’m Joe Wilson and you’re my brother Dan.”
Freddie frowned. “I don’t want to be Dan. I want to be Darren.”
Everett rolled his eyes. “Fine, you’re Darren. And what’s my name?”
“Everett,” Freddie said.
“No! I’m Joe. Shit, Freddie. Just let me do the talking or you’ll screw this up before we even get started.”
