“There’s nowhere else we need to go,” I said.

I kept my hands loose at my sides, my left wrist resting against my hip where my silver watch sat snug against my skin.

“The resort desk is holding four thousand eight hundred dollars in pending charges right now,” Mark said.

He took half a step toward me across the dirt, keeping his palms open and low.

“They won’t let us check out properly until the primary account owner clears the security flag.

You know how those regional bank computer systems work.”