When pissed, Webster always called him Charles. “But boss, this set up’s perfect.” “Listen, dunderhead. I told you to stay with her until I got back to you. Which part of that didn’t you understand?” “Well none of it, boss. But . . . this’d be clean as a whistle. I just thought—” “Don’t think. Just do what you’re told until I get back to you. Got it?” Before Charlie could say yes, his phone went dead. Webster had not waited for Charlie’s confirmation. * * * Charlie called Bobby and told him to check into the same motel. “Get a room close, but not too close, to Darby’s room. Insist on the ground floor. Insist on two beds. Pay cash. I’ll park on the side street and then join you in the room.” * * * Five minutes later, Testler pulled into Weed and found the motel where Linda’s car was parked. He also saw the gray Impala parked facing in about six rooms from what he was guessing was Linda’s room. The motel had clustered its few guests in one tight strip of rooms, likely to make the morning maid service easier.
