“I’m. . . not. . .” Vance sputtered his reply, but finally slumped in his seat with a big exhale. “How you doing, Dee?” He reached out a hand, and we shook.
“I’m good. Who wants me followed?”
He folded his arms. “Can’t say.” Yeah, probably Bea.
“That’s okay.” I patted his shoulder. “See you around.” I got the money I needed, then I drove back to the motel. Vance followed dutifully.
I still wanted to talk to Hale so I could enlist him in the search for Bea’s locker and those fingerprinted drugs. But the last thing I needed was Vance reporting all of this to her, so I had to lose him. Good thing Vance wasn’t the sharpest pencil in the box.
One of the features of this motel that made it a useful hideout was that it had a back exit. The bathrooms had windows large enough to climb through, leading to a fire escape. That led to a strip mall around the corner and from there, to freedom.
Because Vance was parked outside the door to my room, I climbed out of the bathroom window, hailed a cab at the strip mall, and rented a different car. My plain, brown sedan was easy to ignore, but I needed something completely different. I needed a car that could hide me both physically and conceptually. It had to be so outlandish that nobody would suspect I was driving it. I chose a big, black SUV with tinted windows. The car screamed for attention while remaining anonymous—just what I needed. Now I could sneak around town in relative safety.
For the duration of this con, whenever I went to see Bea or someone related to the swindle, I’d drive the brown sedan. But when I was visiting Hale or someone unrelated, I’d turn on the television and sneak out the bathroom window to my SUV parked at the strip mall, returning the same way.
Safely in my SUV, I drove to the pizza place to see Hale. Since he’d been able to hack into the license plate database, I asked him to invade Bea’s finances for me, too. If I could find a payment for the rental of a storage locker, I’d know where it was and could get my incriminating evidence back. Hale agreed to look.
Next, to make Bea happier about my wild, white hair, I bought some hats. They made me feel like I was channeling my inner Wanda. Now I was no longer calling attention to myself, at least not with my white hair. I also bought a few proper outfits so that when we ran the con, I’d look like an appropriately serious daughter.