CHAPTER SEVEN
Riley quickly realized that the Shady Bend Resort was not a resort at all. It was a ten-room, one-floor motel that looked like something out of Psycho, and right off the highway, the kind of place people rented by the hour, or in the dark of night, when they were so tired from their travels they didn’t care where they rested their heads, since they’d be motoring on at daybreak.
Rylie parked her pick-up next to her partner’s black sedan. He’d already gotten out and was standing near the chain-link fence by a sad-looking pool, half-filled with a murky brown miasma of leaves and filth. A sad, half-inflated elephant pool ring bobbed mirthlessly in its depths.
“Want a swim?” the agent teased, picking up a loose stone beneath his loafers and tossing it, rippling the once-calm su
