It was time.
Truckers Annuity had added nothing to its cash balance in the past two months. In her planning Ilysa noted that the following month both Sandy and Rick were heading in more or less the same direction. She'd find a setting for the next Truckers' Annuity mark somewhere easily accessible from their routes.
In fact, Ilysa constantly searched for marks and situations from whom theft of a good sized stash of cash would not be reported. She scanned the notes she'd been making on her computer for such opportunities in the general area where Sandy and Rick would be headed.
This one she found in a small, northern Arizona town. Sandy and Rick were headed for Southeast Colorado. That would work.
From her research it appeared that the lifestyle of the proprietor of a local motel didn't square with the revenues possible from the small, old, rundown motel. Indeed, his large home, flashy cars, and exotic vacations would have required an entire chain of motels. Nonetheless, he was continually the big spender.
It also struck her as interesting that the motel proprietor would use a small community bank in another town two hours from where the motel was located instead of using the bank in the town in which the motel was located.
Scouring the web (including hacking into his bank account), Ilysa could find no other sources of income for him. There must be something going on she figured. That something was probably something that would make him unlikely to want the federal or state tax auditors poking around in his finances were he to be robbed or burglarized.
She began to think this could well be a nice haul for Truckers' Annuity. Feeling like she needed a break, she thought she'd take a look for herself.
In keeping with the founding principles of Truckers' Annuity (the retirement arm of Guaranteed Transport as they jokingly called it) she drove several days to White Rock, New Mexico where she purchased an older, but serviceable Taurus and drove into Arizona. Her destination: Tuba City, Arizona. It was a long drive for someone not used to driving long distances, but the weather was cooperative and the scenery striking.
Once in town she sized up the situation. It was much as she had suspected. A rundown motel and a man living a flashy lifestyle. To keep herself from being noticed as she learned more about her potential mark, she took a motel room in a chain motel just outside of Tuba City where the mark's motel was situated and about two hours from Red Mesa, Arizona, the town where the bank was located.
Studying the proprietor's behavior, using some of the hacking skills she'd developed, she determined that not only did he make the bank run weekly on Thursday night, but he also spent the night in Kayenta, a town about an hour from Tuba City and midway between Tuba City and Red Mesa. He always stayed in the same motel in Kayenta and always went to the same Texas bar-b-que restaurant in the evening. It was almost a ritual.
The weather was pleasant as it had been almost all the time she'd been in Arizona. Hot, but hot in the high desert this time of year was in the high eighties with very low humidity. She followed him the next time he made his Thursday run, taking a room in the Kayenta Inn, a rundown motel near the chain motel where her mark was staying. She picked up her key having endured the leering of the old desk clerk, but instead of going to her room, she got back in her car to stake out the motel where her mark was staying.
Waiting in the car made her look conspicuous. Why would an attractive woman be sitting in a parked car in a parking lot reading a book? She made a point of sitting part of the time on a lone park bench hoping to make her presence less curious.
He spent an hour in the motel, a popular chain motel, then headed for one of the few night spots, a restaurant featuring Texas bar-b-que and two-step dancing. He had not changed his clothes, but she thought he might have showered.
She followed him into the restaurant. Alone she was sure to stand out, but she decided to chance it. Indeed, her pale skin and sophisticated looks attracted some of the cowboys. As politely as she could, she turned them all away while she nursed a beer. She watched for over half an hour as several females from the wait staff as well as other women chatted up Darrin B. Holtzheizer, her potential mark as he put away an enormous steak.
He was, in fact an enormous man. Probably carrying over three hundred pounds on his six foot three frame. He dressed like the locals from his Stetson hat to his alligator boots except that what he wore was much more expensive.
He seemed pleased with the attention, but allowed none of them to join him. Then, between his steak and his pie, he rose from the table and intercepted the attractive young singer from the band as she headed off stage. The band was evidently taking a break.
Together, after a short conversation, the motel owner and the singer disappeared down a hallway. Above the hallway entrance was a sign with an arrow indicating that it led to the restrooms. Curious about why he and the band's singer would go to their separate restrooms together in the middle of his dinner, Ilysa decided it was time for her to visit the ladies room.
She pushed open the door marked "Cowgirls" to find a pleasant rest room nicely decorated and clean. However, there were only ladies here getting away from their male partners and primping for their return. There was no evidence of the singer. She used the restroom and refreshed her makeup.
Exiting the woman's restroom, she took a quick look into the dining area and saw that the mark's place was vacant, but that neither the remnants of his dinner nor his dishes had been removed. The table sat empty as though expecting him to return.
She stood outside the men's room until she could waylay a gentleman before he entered. "Excuse me, sir, but I think my friend may have gone in there by mistake." Shyly she indicated the men's room. "She may have had a bit too much to drink. Would you please look? If you see her, would you send her to the ladies room?"
He looked at her quizzically. "Sure." He returned moments later. "No ladies in there," he said, "but, how well do you know her? Sometimes I've seen ladies go in there usually with a gentleman." He pointed to a nondescript door that bore a sign reading Staff. The restroom doors said either Cowgirls or Cowboys. "Maybe," he said, "And I don't mean to demean her, but maybe she decided to be part of the entertainment." He walked back into the restroom.
Ilysa paid her meal tab and relocated to the bar. Here, again, as she expected, nursing a beer she had to spend a fair amount of her time fending off would-be cowboys as she watched the restroom hallway. A half hour later she was rewarded when the mark emerged with the girl. She looked as though she'd just finished refreshing her makeup while he looked tired, but happy.
The girl left him and rejoined the band which had returned to the stage. The mark ate his piece of cherry pie and left. The smile never left his face.
Ilysa paid her bar tab and followed him outside where they both got in their cars and drove off. He went to his motel where he took an obscure stairway to a wing that appeared to be much newer than the rest of the motel. A special room for a special guest, she wondered. Maybe she had missed something and he owned this motel as well.
She drove on going back to her room at the Kayenta Inn, the rundown motel she had chosen about a mile down the road. On entering she dropped her duffle and lay down to rest before showering and going to bed. It was still fairly early. She'd read or do some Guaranteed Trucking work after her nap and shower before going to bed.
She dropped off to sleep only to be awakened an hour or so later by a soft knock on her door. Startled she went to the peephole in the door. Looking out she saw a uniformed policeman standing under the yellow bulb that lighted the motel corridor. She opened the door to the length of the ancient, virtually useless privacy chain.
"Yes, officer?" She tried to smile though she was extremely nervous.
"You're new in town," he began, "and we like to check out young ladies that come into town in the middle of the night taking a room at a motel." He looked at her meaningfully. "Especially, this motel." He tried to smile, but his demeanor, while not unpleasant was that of a cop. "It doesn't look too good, if you catch my drift. May I come in so we can talk about it?"
