17. Garin

Chapter 17

Garin

Whenever I passed one of those little rundown motels from years gone by—the ones with ten or fewer rooms, dilapidated roofs, and a sign missing a few letters—I always wondered, who stayed here? Like, how were they still in business? Were they a front for some money-laundering business or something even more sordid? Because obviously, you couldn't make a living at it, right?

Well, today I discovered exactly who stayed at places like that: Me.

We had headed west for a few hours before finding a motel with no cars in the parking lot. I looked around and was unable to see any cameras, and when I used my phone, I couldn't even find any wifi for anybody to pick up on. This was old-school, in the middle of nowhere. It was probably filled with mold, dust, and had a nineteen-inch television in its fancy room. Best of all, they had cash-by-the-hour kinds of vibes and that meant no digital footprint. It was perfect.

We went into the small building which, from the looks of it, doubled as the owner's home. Once inside we were slammed with the scent of cigarette smoke, and an older man behind the counter was the source of it. I didn't know people did that anymore in public spaces, but apparently, when you're in the middle of nowhere in a place no one goes to, all bets were off.

"We're looking for a room." Nate put a pile of cash on the counter. Safe to say, that caught the man's attention.

"We don't want trouble here." He crossed over to the counter and counted the money, and when he saw there were hundreds in the mix, he added, "Good thing you don't give off trouble signals."

We one hundred percent did.

"How long are you here til?" He shoved the cash directly in his pocket. The man wasn't even going to try and pretend this was a legit transaction. Thankfully, Nate had money.

"Not sure. Maybe a week." Nate shrugged.

"What you gave me will cover that." He opened a drawer, and it was full of keys with big plastic keychains attached to them. He fished one out and read the unit number off of it. "No one delivers here, but about two miles up the road, there is a sign for the national park. Turn right there instead of left and you'll hit a gas station that sells some convenience foods. If you want real food, it's about fifteen miles to the grocery store."

Nate put a few more hundreds on the counter. "Do you know anyone who can go to the gas station for us?"

"Oh, look at that, I was heading there in a few minutes anyway."

An hour later, we were settled in our room with bags of junk food, questionable sandwiches, and a case of crappy beer. It was far from the Ritz, but it would do.

"Is it me, or was that really hot the way Nate handled our check in?" Watching him take charge like that made me want to drag him straight into our room where we could be alone.

"It's not you," Trig said. "It was hot as hell."

"I figured it was the least I could do. I might not have connections to a cabin for us to hide in, or a beast as fierce as your wolf, but I do have money. Sometimes in the human world, that's enough."

We put things away the best we could and enjoyed our meal of ham or maybe it was bologna… or possibly turkey sandwiches out of little plastic triangles. They didn't taste horrible, and they filled our bellies.

As we ate, we discussed what our next move should be. Nate was gonna call his co-worker Ash, but aside from that, our plan basically involved a whole lot of waiting. This place was nowhere near as nice as the cabin, but it was close to a national park if our beasts demanded some time to run, and it was empty so we didn't have to worry about anyone but the owner who was at the moment quite happy with us.

We spent the next few days in bed, watching cheesy soaps on the crappy 19-inch television along with some old game shows. It wasn't the most comfortable setting, but I was with my mates and they were safe, and that was all that mattered.

Nate had connected with Ash, one of his co-workers, one he thought really highly of. He promised to look into things for us and get back to us when he did. Waiting for him to call back was stressful, the fear that we had inadvertently put him in danger very close to the surface. But a few days later, he got back in touch with us.

Ash was a wolf, or at least Nate assumed he was a wolf. They'd not had a conversation about it, but the scent was there. That made him uniquely qualified for our cases. Because now that there was a body, it was no longer just protecting Nate.

Not only did he have to help us with the situation of the criminal case that Nate was a witness to, but potentially with legal support because of the dead guy. Filling out the forms as an animal attack was the only way to get us out of there quickly. If we had been upfront in the paperwork, the officer would've had no choice but to bring us in for questioning. That would make later more complicated if anyone put two and two together, which was highly likely.

We hadn't quite brought that up to him yet. We figured it was a need-to-know basis, and I wasn't sure he needed to know that just yet.

By the end of day four, Ash called with another update. Things were moving forward with the criminal case. He was out on bail because money buys freedoms, even if only temporarily, but the dates were not only set, but rushed thanks to some favors Ash called in.

I appreciated that so much because living life at a standstill wasn't really living life at all, even if it was nestled with my mates binge watching television.