Homeless in Heaven by Connie Shelton

Author:Connie Shelton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: strong female protagonist, vigilante justice, women amateur sleuths, comedy caper mystery, con man mystery, humorous chick lit series, religious scams
Publisher: Columbine Publishing Group, LLC

Chapter 33

From the king-sized bed, Foster watched the bathroom mirror as Melissa did some elaborate little twists with her hair, somehow making the strands come out in long curls, but his mind wasn’t focused on his wife. His thoughts were bouncing around, a zillion miles a minute.

They had two more days at the resort before they would lose the room. That manager had been adamant about the place being fully booked from the day after Christmas through New Year’s Day, and even though Melissa was racking up enough room charges to make any hotelier drool, it looked pretty certain they’d be back living in the bus in a very short time.

While her concern was to create perfect hair and makeup and choose an ideal restaurant for their Christmas dinner tomorrow, his focus had to be on an escape plan. It was time to go—the edgy feeling in his gut told him so.

Richie Templeton had finished depositing the cash Foster had sent, and he’d been nervous as a cat, worried someone was prowling around in the bank records and could trace the transactions back through him. Well, screw him. Foster could figure out something else.

He had already looked into converting the money to cyber currency and dismissed that idea. It looked as though real estate was going to be the answer, but it had to be in a certain place. Many countries now had ‘know your client’ laws in place, which required purchasers to give all kinds of personal details and proof of their identities. A cash deal somewhere like that would instantly be reported back to the US and therefore accessible to the IRS. It was a move specifically designed to catch money launderers. As if a religious organization was into that stuff.

So, Melissa’s grand idea of a villa anywhere in Europe was likely off the table. But he’d located a few jurisdictions where a purchase could work, and one of them had some private islands. Now that would surely appeal to her sense of a grand and glorious life.

When he first met Missy, he was tired of living in poverty and she was the girl with the big plans and the workable schemes for getting what they wanted. Now, they had plenty. She thrived on working a con, constantly being ‘on’ in front of others, but he was getting tired of it.

He indulged in a vision of a tropical island with a simple grass shack. Or not so simple—an elaborate home with wide views of the ocean, cool verandas, and palm frond roofs. A place where he would fish all day or lie out in the sun while a staff cared for the place and he never had to plan anything more elaborate than what he would order for breakfast.

But that was a ways off. First, he had to get them there—with all the money they’d worked so hard for.

“Hey, sweetie, you’re not dressed.” Melissa interrupted his thoughts. She had finished her elaborate pile of curls and put on trim black slacks and a pink sweater that looked like it was made from baby duck feathers.

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