Chapter 19
Roman pulled into the Microtel at the top of the grassy, barren hill that overlooked Marlinsville, Texas. He opened his trunk, took his new jeans and shirts and packed them in his mostly empty suitcase. He grabbed a few of his other bags and sauntered up to the front desk. A woman, about 25 years old, Hispanic, greeted him, "Welcome to Marlinsville. How may I help you?"
"I need a room, non-smoking, at least for the next three weeks, with an option to stay longer. I will be paying cash." Roman pulled out his money clip and peeled off 15 one-hundred dollar bills. He handed them over.
Blushing, the clerk palmed the cash and leaned into him. "I've got just the room for you, Mr.--?"
"Johnson. Call me Jimmie." He chuckled at his little joke, and the woman laughed with him.
"Well,
