I can’t stop the giggle that erupts from my chest when I read the name on the motel sign. The Hideaway.
Opening my fist, I smooth the money out in my hands, counting the bills. There is over three hundred dollars here. I look up at the cloudy sky and whisper a thank you to whomever is up there watching over me.
The old man working behind the counter watching the Today Show looks me over silently judging me. “I don’t want any trouble.”
“There won’t be any. All I need is a room for one night.”
He nods and slides the guestbook across the counter.
I count out sixty dollars and sign a fake name on the registry. Magnolia Grace. It’s what my mother wanted to name me, but my father wanted to name me after his grandmother, so they compromised and named me June Marie Lovering.
The man looks at the name and shakes his head but gives me the key to my room.
Inside my room, I kick my borrowed boots off and start dumping the contents of my bag out onto the bed. I’m in desperate need of a shower. If Flip found Chris’s body and turned me in the police will already be looking for me.
I need a plan.
I look down at my belongings and that’s when I see a large brick of cocaine and the three largest stacks of cash I have ever seen in my life held together with rubber bands. My mouth opens and falls shut. My palms start to sweat. I don’t know what to do with the drugs or the money, but my stomach growls, and I need to take care of my basic needs, so I can think clearly.
Chapter 2
That first night at the hotel, I went across the street to the gas station and bought a pair of scissors and a trucker hat to give me some small disguise until I could dye my hair brown. I found a ride with another truck driver the next morning and he and his friends worked together to get me as far as North Carolina. I don’t know why but I trusted him with my story, well parts of it when he started asking me questions. He reminded me of my dad in a lot of ways when I was just a kid. Before Mom left and he blamed me for his life going to shit. Anyway, this guy was fatherly and genuinely wanted to help me out of a terrible situation. I told him I was running from an abusive relationship. He ended up having a contact who was able to fabricate me a Georgia license with my alias Magnolia Grace on it. I need to lay low. I’ve been afraid to watch the news. Scared that I will see my face with the word WANTED above my photograph.
I showed up in Crimson Cove yesterday and am staying at the Brinnon Motel until I can figure out my next move. Two weeks have passed, and I am still free. I don’t know where my next stop is once I leave from here. The thought of always being on the go is depressing. Greg, the truck driver who got me this far said this was a good quiet place for hiding away from the rest of the world.
I’ve been sitting on the beach for an hour soaking in the peaceful sound as the waves crash the shore. It’s beautiful here. Beautiful enough that I do want to stay. At least for a while. I am going to meet a realtor later today about renting a small cottage apartment. I’ve even been searching the local job listings. I haven’t found anything yet but there
are a couple of restaurants that sound promising. I don’t exactly need the money right now, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself by being too much of a recluse. I need to blend in.
Standing up, I dust my backside off and go back to my room to freshen up. I was afraid that they wouldn’t want to give me a room without a credit card, but I showed my fake identification card and told them I lost everything when my house burnt down. The story worked.
I hope it will be enough for the realtor too.
The property isn’t too far from where I am staying and is even more beautiful than the advertisement I saw in the local newspaper. The outside of the house is a cotton candy blue with a navy door and white trim. Thick greenery surrounds the small home giving it a tropical atmosphere.
The realtor comes out the front door and its only now that I realize it’s a double. There is another navy door and the units are numbered one and two. I am not thrilled about having a neighbor so close by, but the rent is affordable and all-inclusive of utilities, and the rental is furnished.
“Hi, you must be Magnolia was it?”
“Please. Call me Maggie.”
“Okay, Maggie. My name is Ann and I work for the Beachfront Rental Company. Would you like to come in and take the tour?”
“Absolutely.”
Ann leads me inside and the scent of lemon sugar cookies hits me automatically.
The walls are painted a pale yellow and the flooring is hardwood. The place is small with the living room and kitchen connected. Beyond the kitchen is a full bath and a single bedroom. “It’s perfect,” I announce unable to contain my excitement. “Where do I sign?”
“Well we need to do a background check, and you’ll need to pay your first and last month’s rent upfront. Once everything clears you will be able to move in.”
I was anticipating this. “What if I pay cash today. Right now.” I pull an envelope from my purse.
“Um well…” She rolls her bottom lips inward. “You seem like a nice girl with a strong southern name. Okay. I will go out to my car and get the lease.”
Once the door closes behind her, I let out a squeal and clap my hands together. My first real place that is all mine. No jerk boyfriend telling me what I can and can’t do. Before him it was my father. For the first time in my life I am free. Well that is for now.
Ann returns with a pen and I count out the money.