Chapter 58

 

 

The bus reached El Paso around ten p.m. Every part of the journey annoyed Foster. Melissa’s non-stop chatter about décor didn’t abate (do you like this fabric better or that one, honey?), in spite of his reminders that the furniture was only there to fill in around the boxes and make this appear to be a household move. They were not actually furnishing a house, not yet.

During the entire trip, a strong wind buffeted the vehicle and made it hard to hold on the road. That was another irritating thing. If you looked up the word ‘boring’ in the dictionary, Foster would bet the definition described the long road through west Texas. In the lumbering vehicle with the heavy trailer, nothing moved at the speed he would have liked.

At least they’d not encountered snow. He reminded himself to be thankful about that. It worked until, after winding their way through El Paso’s seedier back streets, they arrived at the storage facility to find the high chain-link gates locked. Razor wire topped the surrounding fencing, and the manager’s office was dark. A sign said the hours were six a.m. to eight p.m.

What had he been thinking, leaving so much cash in a place like this? As he recalled, it had been nearly five years ago, and the neighborhood hadn’t been quite so downtrodden. He had diligently renewed the rental each year, but now he wondered how secure the facility was. Would their boxes still be here?

Melissa had finally crashed on the bed at the back. He parked the bus on the street outside the storage facility and decided to join her. But his eyes refused to close and his mind wouldn’t relax. They were carrying nearly thirty million dollars already, and he couldn’t help feeling like a prime target. It was foolish to sit here in this neighborhood.

He got up, pulled his pants back on, and went to the front. No sign of anyone on the street, but it wasn’t worth the risk. He started the bus, circled the block, and headed back the way they’d come.

After giving up on finding a campground open, he settled for a superstore parking lot where he made certain there were lights and security cameras on all sides of the rig. He settled on the bed beside his wife and she cuddled into his side. His eyes stayed open for a long time.

When his alarm buzzed at five-thirty the sun hadn’t yet cleared the horizon, but Foster was already awake. He walked across the street to the first fast-food joint with lights on, came back to the bus with two coffees and breakfast sandwiches, and prodded Melissa.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Up and at ’em. We got a busy day.”

She grumbled but complied. He had to give her credit for being a trouper.

They got to the storage facility in time to see a half-asleep manager arrive. The man didn’t seem to notice the bus and trailer across the street, until he unlocked the wide chain-link gates and wheeled them aside. Through his open window, Foster gave his unit number and the man waved them through. He looked as if he didn’t really care where they went as long as he could get inside the warm office and have his first coffee.

Loading and stacking the boxes had become routine and they worked quickly. When the trailer became too full to hold anything more, they again piled boxes on the bed in the bus. The tally was nearing fifty million now. They could have built a decent-sized housing community if all this cash had actually gone where Orion and Sunshine promised it would.

Foster tamped down that thought right away. He hadn’t worked this hard for all these years just to cater to people with their hands out. He’d grown up in poverty and figured his own way out of it. Let them do the same.

He and Melissa were set for life. All he had to do now was protect what was theirs. He triple-checked the locks on the trailer and bus before climbing into the driver’s seat and heading toward Las Cruces and on to Interstate 10.