When Ramona hurriedly closed the door behind her, she could see the neon Good Deal Inn sign reflected in the cheap metal cabinet that held the television in her shabby room. Several letters of the sign were burned out, leaving only GO_D illuminated to stand guard over the lonely souls who entered the downtrodden motel in search of refuge. The sign was blinking erratically like a giant sparkler.
Ramona grabbed her suitcase and tossed in the few articles she had unpacked. Standing in front of the vanity, she noticed how pale and thin she had become. Her hands had begun to tremble without warning. It was time for her to get out of town, and she knew it would be dangerous to wait any longer.
Ramona had been trying to locate an old friend in Atlanta to no avail. The money Sam Lerner had lent
