A few miles later, Covington pulled the Rolls into the parking lot and found his normal spot around the front of the building. He grabbed a briefcase from beside Greta in the backseat before exiting the vehicle. Being gentlemanly, he held the door open for Greta, and the three of them entered the lobby of the Desert Palms.
“Hey, Cheryl.”
“Good evening, Mr. Covington. Hey, that’s the man I told you about. The one who asked all those questions about your automobile.”
“I know. Thank you. He’s an old friend and recognized the Rolls and didn’t know how else to get in touch with me.”
Cheryl smiled. “That’s nice that he found you. Your regular room?”
Covington grabbed a handful of matches donning the Desert Palms Motel logo from a large candy bowl to the right of a box of tissues. “Yes, plea
