staring uncertainly after him.

 

He walked back to his van and drove to a motel that offered a twenty-nine-dollar

nightly rate. It was a firetrap, but after ten years in a prison cell he had

learned not to care where he slept so long as he could walk out the door of his

own free will.

 

He paid for three nights in cash and went to the room after parking the white

van in a space directly in front.

 

Five hundred dollars a night, off during the days, and he would still have time

after he clocked out at two to do what needed doing. It was a good scenario for

him all the way around.

 

He locked the door behind him, dropped his duffel on the floor, hung his work

clothes up in the closet and placed the shoes directly underneath.

 

He sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the smartphone. He’d never used

one before. They were only coming into vogue after he had gone to prison. But he

quickly figured out how it worked.

 

He went online and did some more digging on CB Excelon Corp.

 

His searches becoming more advanced, he skipped from one site to another until

he found something interesting.