CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tucson, Arizona
“Ooh.” Leslie lay in her motel room that night, fanning a sheet of paper. “No way I’m getting any sleep in this hot a*s room.” She got the phone next to the bed and dialed the front desk. “Yes, this is the lady in room fourteen. Is the air working?” She glanced up at the dusty vent. “Because pardon my language, I don’t feel s**t coming from these vents.”
“The air is on, ma’am. It’s just boiling. You’ll get used to it.”
“Please, the devil couldn’t get used to this.” Leslie hung up the phone. “This is miserable.” She opened the window and fanned her shirt, her mind drifting as she looked upon the serene desert.
Tiny stars dotted the midnight sky, leaving a misty sheen over the moss-green trees and rust-colored sand.
“Shoot.”
She needed to call Morgan a
