anyone’s with him.” He shot me a frustrated look. “We can’t go from door to door, Carly.”
“But what if we freaked him out and he’s going to hurt them?”
He grabbed my hand and squeezed. “I’m just as frustrated as you are, Carly. Trust me. But there’s nothing we can do but wait.”
I pulled my hand free and grabbed a tissue out of my purse.
“We could be here a while,” he said. “He might be in there for hours or he might be in there for five minutes.”
I had to do something, and my worried mind turned to the next concern on my list. Max. I was willing to suck up my pride for some peace of mind. I pulled out my cell phone. No service. “I’m worried about Max.”
“If he’s with Wyatt, he’s fine.”
“Do you have cell service?”
He pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and checked the screen. “No.”
Another danger to add to our list. We wouldn’t be able to call for backup even if Marco decided it was a good time to move.
I shifted in my seat, antsy and frustrated.
“Carly,” Marco said with a sigh. “Take a deep breath and try to relax.”
I shot him a dark look.
“You’re gonna drive me crazy,” he grumbled.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that my imagination is running wild about what’s going on in there.”
“For all we know, he’s up there meetin’ his new mistress for an afternoon delight. Try gettin’ that out of your head.” He made a face and shuddered.
It wasn’t a pretty image, but I’d rather think of Mobley’s sex life than worry about Greta and Lula. Bottom line: Marco was right. We had no idea which room Mobley had slipped into, and there was absolutely nothing we could do but wait.
“So you really sold your car to Bingham?” Marco asked.
“Yep. For four thousand dollars, which means I have money to buy a new one. Got any suggestions where to go?”
“Yeah,” he said in a dry tone. “If you’re wantin’ a used one, Wyatt is the best source.”
“Then how come he never offered to help me find one?” I asked defensively.
“Hell if I know. Maybe he didn’t think it was a priority. You’ve been driving Hank’s car.”
“Well, Wyatt’s not an option. Where else can I go?”
“I’ll make a few calls,” he said, then leaned forward, his body stiffening. “He’s comin’ out.”
I swung my gaze to the motel and saw a man in a suit walking out of a room at the far end of the bottom level. He shut the door behind him and hurried toward his car. Alone.
“What are we going to do, Marco?” I asked. “Follow him or stay and see what’s in the room?”
“Follow him.”
“I can stay and check the room,” I suggested. “While you follow him.”
“No freakin’ way,” he said. “We stay together. The other two cars are parked at the opposite end of the lot, so they’re likely not connected to this. We’ll follow Mobley, then come back and check out the room.”
“How will we get in?”
“My lock pickin’ kit.”
“I thought you were a deputy.”
“Well, sometimes you need a little help.”
Mobley’s car whipped backward in reverse, and he drove just as erratically getting out of the parking lot as he had coming in.
Once he was between the buildings, Marco started his pursuit.
Mobley headed back to town this time. I wondered if he was returning to the funeral home, but he drove into a residential neighborhood and pulled into the driveway of a ranch house.
Marco parked down the street, and we watched as two children ran out the front door, shouting, “Grandpa!”
Mobley leaned over and gave them both hugs, then let them tug him into the house.
I glanced over as Marco pulled out his cell phone and started swiping. Apparently he had service again. “This is Mobley’s address of record. He lives here.”
“We scared him. It makes sense that he’d run home, but why did he go to the motel first?”
Marco put the car into drive. “We’re about to find out.”
He didn’t waste any time driving to the motel, and I was a nervous wreck. Scared of what we’d find in the room. Scared we wouldn’t find anything.
Marco drove around back and parked a few rooms down from the room Mobley had emerged from.
“Wait in here,” he said, reaching for the door handle.
“You’re crazy if you think I’m not coming with you.” I opened the car door and got out.
He opened the back passenger door and got his crutches out of the back.
“Carly,” he groaned as