“And you don’t have any cash.” Mr. Jackson patted his shoulder. “Go see Tom. He’s in the office at the ranch. He’ll take care of you.”
“Mr. Jackson, if there’s ever anything I can do for you, all you have to do is ask.”
“Thank you, Mopp.”
Mopp gave him a smile and jogged to where he’d parked his Jeep.
He drove the dilapidated vehicle to Mr. Jackson’s house. It was in a gated community, and he was afraid the guards at the gate wouldn’t let him in, but Mr. Jackson had called ahead. Mopp knew where the house was, having been there any number of times for the Friday afternoon barbecues, and he turned the Jeep into the drive and let it roll to the back.
Mopp switched off the engine, then got his duffel bag and walked to the gate in the stockade fence that bordered the property. He could he
