CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As the cleaner had forewarned, the motel manager charged a full extra day for Georgie’s two-and-a-half-hour sleep-in. At least her magazine gig meant she could claim it back on tax. She tucked her credit card away as she exited the motel.
One look at the electric blue cloudless sky made her forget the penalty she’d paid for late checkout. The weather god had finally remembered it was summer.
A hot dry breeze rippled over her skin, and Georgie couldn’t wait to head off and snake through the Black Spur with the soft-top down on the Spider, enjoying the warmth and wind in her hair. The ‘Best of the Eagles’ playing on her car stereo would make it perfect. But as she’d told AJ, she had to talk to someone first.
It felt urgent.
Within minutes, the Goynes’ property loomed, a
