A run-in with the law
“Thanks for your honesty. Slow down a little bit.” He handed me back my license and registration. Amazing. I was giddy as I drove the last few miles to the very old bed and breakfast where we were staying the night.
It was a beautiful old farmhouse. An old man named Ingram sat in an office. He seemed to move people around the farmhouse on the fly. “You’ll take 5 and 6. Well no, there is someone in 6, but he did say he was OK to move. I might put you guys in 5 and 7. Well, just take 5 for now and then we will work the rest out later.” There was no key. No sign in. They take cash only. Total anonymity.
Literally my first thought: this is the perfect place to hide out. I need to remember this place in case I ever need to go on the run.
We change for the wedding, and briefly explore the rest of the house, a beautiful common room overlooking a picturesque stream. A fireplace/campfire contraption in the middle of the room, like nothing I’d ever seen, a ceiling-to-floor bookshelf. Perfect place to disappear.
I just have to remember not to speed on the way up.