That’s when I grabbed his hair and slammed his face into the counter as hard as I could. “It says, ‘You’re an asshole.’” Then I pulled him right over the counter into the lobby. It was a lot more work than I thought it would be.

I jerked his face up so he was looking at the photo on my phone. I tried to keep my tone even when I said, “Like I was asking, have you seen any of them?”

The big man, who had a trickle of blood running down his face from a broken nose, focused on the photograph, then turned and looked at me sheepishly, saying, “The guy on the left is in room 16. He’s driving an older Ford pickup with a snowplow on the front of it. Looks like he’s in the military. A little strange, maybe even scary.” Then he took a moment, wiped the blood with his bare hand, and said, “But not as scary as you.”

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

I helped the clerk clean up and get settled in his chair. He understood that he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone I’d been asking questions. The look on his face told me he’d keep that promise.

It was time to use some of my private investigation skills. This was the one area I was a little weak in, but it was time to try it: surveillance. I was going to conduct my own stakeout at the motel. I parked my car across the highway, at an empty strip mall. No one coming down the road would give a beat-up station wagon a second look.

There was a pickup truck with a professional-looking snowplow attached to the chassis parked directly in front of room 16, which was the last one on the left side of the motel. The truck had been backed into a spot, so I couldn’t read the license plate. It didn’t matter; I just wanted to see where he’d go.

The whole experience made me feel like a legitimate private investigator. It didn’t have anything to do with my knowing the background of someone who needed help and understanding what they were looking for. Often my private investigation business was more about comforting elderly people than actually solving some kind of crime. I never took divorce or cheating cases, and I slept pretty well most nights. Now, in my station wagon, I was waiting for someone who might be dangerous to leave the hotel. Shit was getting real.

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

I felt the weather move in before the snow started to fall. In a few minutes the road was completely blanketed, and more was coming. I looked at my watch and realized it was getting late. I sat, staring at a motel that no one had come out of or gone into in more than three hours. Maybe that’s why I don’t do much surveillance. It’s definitely frustrating.