“Nope.”
“Who do the other cars belong to?” Kegan asked.
“Dinner guests, from what I could tell. Four couples and Franklin were at the dining room table. We know there’s no Mrs. Franklin, and if he has a girlfriend, she wasn’t there.”
Kegan nodded. “With the wives there, it is a social gathering, not a business one, I suspect. All right, let’s go back to the motel and get some sleep. We need to be up at the crack of dawn.”
* * * *
An hour after they’d returned to the motel, the man at the front desk called Kegan to say there was a package for him. It was the MGL—in a plain brown wrapper, as promised. Kegan checked it when he got back to the room, before putting it back in its box for the time being.