A paying client somewhere in this mess would be nice, if nothing else to cover my gas money. With no reason to stick around Hainey, I headed west again, back to Panacea. I found a shady spot in a grocery store parking lot and retrieved my pasta from the backseat. The heat inside the car had intensified the tomato smell. Against my better judgment (and all of my nana’s your-food-will-kill-you advice), I took a bite. The sauce ingredients had started to separate, with some bits adhering to the pasta and others pooling in the container. Nothing like body-temperature leftovers. I tried to pretend my car was a low-wattage microwave, and that helped me finish the rest.
Around 5 p.m., I drove to the clearing JD had led me to from the marina. It looked like I could leave my car there without attr
