It took two weeks after the closing before I had my first bike ready to sell. It wasn't great but the kit was easy enough to assemble. It was designed so almost any idiot could have done it without ruining either the kit or the bike. Yes I managed to get it set without wrecking either kit but it was a close call. Even so I was very proud of myself.

I had the good bike rack mounted on the sedan left to me by the Marshal service, so I tried my first ride. I drove the bike to Wrightsville island. I removed it from the bike rack while parked in the lot of Johnny Mercer's pier. The bike went about ten miles before the battery warning light began to blink on and off. To get the ten miles, I had to run up and down the island several times. It got some notice but not as much as I would have liked.

When I got back home, I began researching signs. Since the bike was the draw, I began looking at signs to hang from it. As usual there was nothing being sold that seemed up to the task. So I designed my own.

Designing the sign was more about designing the sign holder, then writing a few words on a piece of cardboard. I knew I wanted something with movement but not something that would get in the way of the bike's normal operation. I settled on a weather vane kind of mount, It was no more than a clamp over the seat post, with a one foot high pole set back about six inches from the post. the post could move inside the holder when the wind blew it. It was supposed to wave side to side.

I envisioned a sign with just the name of the company and my new web address. Con men are pretty adaptable, so designing a website using the host freeware was pretty simple. Since I didn't want to be tied to the site too much, I required the buyer to contact me by phone. After that everything would be done on the phone or by mail or even email. On line sales were by paypal only, for credit card purchase I required telephone orders, checks were to be accepted through the mail, so I had everything covered. I didn't expect to sell anything on the net or by mail but it was an option that would help account for the extra money flowing through my account. I needed a few real purchases to hide the fake ones.

Where I was located the land was flat and the ebike was great. It was a tourists dream. One could convince themselves that they were getting real exercise without breaking a sweat, as my daddy would have said.

I had the second bike with the hub motor finished, when I got my first business call. "Rhino bike company," I said into the cell phone.

"Hi, I saw you on the beach yesterday. I think that is just the coolest thing. How far can I go on a charge and how fast," the woman on the phone asked.

"You aren't going to set any land speed records, but you can probably do about twenty miles an hour. Here at the beach you can probably get ten to twenty miles on a charge, depending on your choice of batteries."

"Do you rent them. We are going to be here a couple of weeks. I would love to have one of your bikes to use while we are here."

I had never thought about a rental, so I had to do some quick tap dancing. "Twenty-five dollars a day. Just leave me your credit card number, like you do at the motel. We will make the charges after you return the bike. Now that is with a lead acid battery pack. If you want the fancy lithium pack it will be forty dollars a day." I explained the benefits of the lithium pack but she decided that she and her husband would need only a few miles a day so they were willing to go with the lead acid pack.

I delivered the two bikes to them. I was surprised that the man didn't demand that I remove the front fender sign, but he seemed to be okay with it. I did take the more expensive rear sign away. When I left they were climbing on the bike for a quick ride down the beach. I saw them ride off like a couple of kids and knew I needed a better battery system. I needed something that could be easily switched out. It would be best if one battery was charging while one was being used.

The answer came from the Internet of course. With the hub motor the 12ah battery pack was good for about five to seven miles at the beach. That is on the flat ground and with a little pedaling, just enough to get it moving from the at rest position.

The three 12ah batteries would fit almost perfectly into a plastic shoe box from the dollar store. It wasn't going to be a problem but to make the batteries an easy change I needed to build trailers for them. It wouldn't look as cool, but it would be the answer for the lead acid batteries. The lithium could still fit on the bike since they were smaller and lighter.

That's how I met Shelly. We had dinner at 7:30 and sex at 10:00.. In between we talked about this and that. We even managed to walk on the pier on Wrightsville Island. When the sex happened it was a surprise, at least to me. With women one never knows since they are in control of that part of life.

Shelly was a nice just under middle-aged lady. She had blonde hair, and I was pretty sure it wasn't what god had intended. It was far too even to have been natural. Even so it was well done, I supposed.

Shelly was attractive in that skinny washed out country girl kind of way. Yes you can take the Southern farm girl off the farm, and you can put her in nice clothes, and even inside a bank, but she is still a Southern farm girl. I really didn't mind her country girl looks or her rather deep drawl. It was the fact that she was still married that bothered me some.

"Oh my husband is away and he knows I go out with other men. He understands that I get lonely." she said over dinner.

"Oh is he away on business?" I asked.

"Not really, he is in the state penitentiary." I was more than a little surprised by that. I mean she had been a date set up by a cop for God's sake.

"Oh what did he do?" I asked innocently.

"Assault with a deadly weapon. He really didn't plan it, he just lost his temper."

"And how much longer is he going to be away?"

"About five more years before he comes up for parole."

"Well I would appreciate it, if our relationship stays just between us."

"Of course," she answered. "That is also the deal I made with my husband. I would wait for him, if I could see other men. He would never ask about them and I would never talk about them.

Even with the thought a violent felon for a husband, Shelly still managed to keep my interest up. At least she kept something up long enough to get it done....

"What the hell were you doing?" I asked Jen gin on the phone.

"What? you didn't like Shelly?" she asked with that smile in her voice.

"Of course I liked Shelly. I just didn't care for the idea that she has a violent felon for a husband."

"Yes, but it will be years before he is free. Even then, he has a lot more men to get to before he reaches you. At least he does if he works Chronologically." She broke into a laugh.

"Why did you do it?" I asked.

"You looked like you needed it. After all you have also been away. I figured you and Shelly had something in common. I mean you did time, and she is married to a guy in prison."

"Oh you looked me up?" I knew she would so it wasn't a shock.

"I'm a cop, of course I looked you up."

"So next time I ask you out either accept or just say no. I don't think I want you fixing me up again. You have a weird sense of humor." I replied then clicked the phone off.

I checked with all my delivery people and found that I had only two days to sight see. So I headed up the coast along the not so famous highway 17. I visited three of the best known early towns in North Carolina. They were founded back with river boats were about the only way to get goods inland. The towns all had two things in common. The first was a mostly decaying downtown in the process of being revitalized for about the hundredth time. The second was that each had an almost identical riverside park. From the signs I could tell that the state of North Carolina had sprung for the money to build all of the parks in the same budget. That was long before the fall of the US economy.

Two of the three river towns were being tastefully restored, but the third and smallest of the three looked as thought it had been done by one of those reality TV shows. It was just plain awful. All the wrong colors and way too many of them. Instead of the quaint cobble stone pavers most often used, they had gone for colored in the mix concrete. It was truly a gay decorator's wet dream.

I did find. probably. the worlds best fish sandwich along the way. In one of the small towns, on the main street, within sight of the mouth of a river, I found a small seafood restaurant. Their lunch special was a fresh filet of fish sandwich. Since the fish could vary widely, they didn't specify a type.

Being somewhat adventurous, I ordered it with a home fried potatoes. I ordered the potatoes in hopes that they wouldn't come from a bag of precut frozen ones. The sandwich absolutely lived up to it's billing. The filet was just thick enough to be flavorful, but no so thick that it was too fishy. The breading was light and well spiced. The sauce was mayonnaise based, but not too sweet. It was truly delicious.

I loved the road trip and hated to see it end. On the last day I took a ferry ride to the barrier Islands. It was another beautiful day and great scenery. I had never taken the time to just wonder around, so it was a real treat for me. Life on the run did have it's advantages.

When I got back in town I found a medium sized box sitting beside my door. The mail carrier had left a box of tools unattended. If the place hadn't been a flurry of activity for a while, and the door inside a small alcove, I expect the package would have been gone. Still, there was so little traffic it might have gone unnoticed for several more days.

Inside the box were four sets of wrenches. One was a metric set of box and open end wrenches, one was a sae set of the same type wrench, there was also a set of Allen wrenches, and finally one set of metric in a knife like handle to fit in my pocket. I had bought them on line through ebay. I did it because I knew it would take a while to arrive and I really had no place to store tools until I took possession of the building.

I called the carpenter who had worked on the roof deck repair. The economy was so bad that he was able to come right over. It took him all afternoon to build the work bench which covered the rear wall of the service bay. When he had finished he left me the scrap 2x8s and plywood. I stored them under the work bench.

I went on line that night to get some help determining what tools I needed. I knew how to use simple hand tools, but I had a feeling there would be a need for specialized tools as well. I was right of course. There were special wrenches to make tightening wheel parts easier and special tools to remove crank sets from the bike and a tool to remove the sprocket set of a multi sprocket rear wheel.

Then there were the power tools. There were grinders and cutoff tools. as well as power drills and saws to buy. I found it best to just drive to Harbor Freight and load up all at once on the power tools I needed. Everything bike related, I just ordered on line and hoped I wouldn't need it before it arrived.

On the second day after my return from the trip just as scheduled ups delivered several boxes of used parts, which I had purchased on line. There were three 600 watt scooter motors and the mounts to attach them to the drives. Those all came from an electric scooter repair shop.

A second box held a half dozen used rear wheel assemblies from a much smaller scooter. Those came from a scooter salvage yard of all things. I chose those wheel assemblies because they were smaller than the ones from the repair shop and they had solid core tires. Those two items along with some raw metal from home depot would made my first three bikes. There were more sophisticated kits on the way from china, but these three would be the first to hit the showroom floor.

I stole the design from a guy on one of the bike forums. He didn't mind since he was just an old fart who was in it for fun. By the first weekend in the shop, I had the motors and the electronics ready to mount on a bike. I was waiting for the heavy duty bikes to arrive when I decided to hell with it. I went to three different Wal-mart stores to find three bikes I wanted to use. Since the rear seat, on the sedan Cindy left me, folded I was able to get the bikes back to the shop.

Instead of assembling the bikes over the weekend, I called my cop friend. "Jen gin, what you got planned for today?" I asked.

"Who the hell is this?" she asked.

"It's Eddie, from the palm room." I said it with a laugh.

"Oh the older guy?" I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Yes the one who reminds you of your uncle. You know the one who took your virginity," I laughed out loud so that she would know that I was joking.

"Damn I must have been drunk, If I told you about that." She paused a moment then added. "I'm working this weekend. Actually swing shift so there is nothing I can do for you."

"Too bad, I guess I'll just have to tough it out alone. So when can I take you to dinner. I did promise."

"You promised to ask me out, I did not promise to accept," she said with that smile in her voice again.

"Good point," I admitted.

"I have a friend you might like. She just broke up with her boyfriend. How about I fix you up."

"Aren't you worried about her taking me away from you."

"Can't lose what I never had," she replied.

"Tell me you aren't making friends with the local police. Eddie that would be a very bad idea."

"I thought you said this ID would hold up to any scrutiny?"

"Of course it will, you might not though."

"Trust me I have been questioned by the best, and I held it together. Besides it was just a lady who happened to be a cop."

"She is also a cop who just happens to have female plumbing, She is always going to be a cop first."

"I'm counting on it," I said hat with a huge smile. "What can be less suspicious than a guy who dates a cop. If I had anything to hide, surely I would find someone else to date."

"You know she will run your background and find the bit you did in the federal prison camp?"

"I'm counting on it," I replied. "Spread the word around that I'm a harmless nerd and they will leave me alone. I don't have any books to juggle, except my own."

"If this goes sideways, you are going to be on the run," Cindy informed me.

"I know and I'm not interested in doing that again. I'm going to be very careful."

"Good, so when will you have the shop open?"

"In a couple of weeks if I keep my nose to the wheel. I probably will do some sight seeing while I wait for the inventory to arrive,"

I wasn't so sure about the whole beach bum thing by the time the closing arrived. I figured it was still real estate, even it if was a crappy location. Cindy seemed thrilled to have me settled into something. I explained to her about the trailer and my intention to stay behind the shop until I could got the business going.

I didn't want some smart ass accountant finding too much money in my hands. IE the government reward for the Sanchez brothers, or my own ill gotten gains, could send up flags.

"I'm glad one of you finally gets it." she said.

"One of you," I laughed. "Maybe i should get you into a sensitivity training class,"

"I meant one of you witnesses. Most think it's going to be business as usual."

"I think in my case, the certainty of a Columbian necktie, if they find me, is enough to keep me focused. I know I need to stay hidden. It's my ass so it's in my own best interest to keep out of sight both in my real life and with my paper trail."

"Good for you. Do you really think you can sell bicycles out in the country like this."

"No, I think I can make them here, then sell them in town or on the beach. Maybe even on Craig's list. I'm going to have a bike rack put on the rear of the car. A good one, not one of those strap on things, but one welded on by a pro."

"To deliver bikes? Isn't it going to be hard to sell a bike sight unseen?"

"Actually more to take me to a place where I can ride with maximum visibility, I plan to be my own best advertising." Probably up and down Wrightsville Beach, then down to Carolina Beach. I'm going to spend some time in Holden Beach and Fort Fisher as well. I might even go up to Emerald Isle. You know places like that never see these bikes. I think showing the bikes and giving out cheap brochures is the way to go."

"So sign this last page and initial it on the front, then the building is all yours," the lawyer said.

"Mine and the bank." What no one knew was that after a year my little off shore holding company would buy the mortgage and the payments would end. Until then Uncle Sam was making them anyway, so I played along. The first year's expenses were part of my resettlement settlement.

Cindy and I went to a well known but grimy seafood restaurant, located on the inland waterway, for lunch. It survived on the local trade mostly, since tourist wanted a dining experience not good food,

"How the hell did you find this place?" Cindy asked.

"It was recommended by a cop," I admitted.

I had decided to buy a 25' camping trailer. I planned to park it behind the shop. I could sleep in it until I got my affairs in order. I wanted to get the place up and showing a profit, even if the profit were only on paper, before I bought a house or beachfront condo. It had to do with cover maintenance. I didn't want anyone asking question about me.

I found the trailer on Craig's list. My plan was to move it somewhere down south and have a second beach home. It was comfortable as those tin cans go. I paid six grand for it, but it was only money. I didn't mind that but I did hate the three hundred dollars I had to pay to get the thing towed to the shop.

The shop was due for closing in a week, so I took the chance and stored the trailer on site. If the building fell through I could just pay a few bucks and have the trailer moved. I didn't do anything but have the driver do anything but level the tongue jack. I didn't plan to live in the darn thing until the closing and then only for a few months at the most. Just enough time for it not to be so suspicious me buying a house.

One thing about being in jail with a lot of white collar criminals, it teaches you how to screw around with money. I learned how to make myself a loan for the house I wanted to buy. It would be so clean that nobody would every doubt it. I would just be my own mortgage company. One who never complained about a late payment. Somewhere down the line when the government cut me loose from their assistance, I would just refinance the shop with myself as the banker. Thanks to a couple of guys who made Bernie look like a rank amateur, I could do all kinds of neat things with money and the trail it didn't leave.

I tried my hand at fishing off the pier at Wrightsville|Island. I had a lot more luck at the beer parlor next door. I caught no fish on the pier but I met a heck of a nice young woman in beer joint. She and I seemed to share the same sarcastic sense of humor. There were many nasty zingers floating around the bar that morning.

"Well sorry to do it Eddie, but I have to get ready for work," the almost thirty year old blonde said to me.

"Oh at noon what kind of job starts at noon?"

"None that I know of but it takes me a while to get dressed."

"Oh then you aren't a topless dancer?" I asked.

"Not even close, I'm a Holden Beach police officer," she said flatly. She also stared at me to see what my reaction would be.

"All those years of thinking on my feet had prepared me for all kinds of things. It is probably why I reacted in a positive way rather than a negative one. "Wow, could we play with your handcuffs sometime?" I just knew that it was the right thing to say.

"Oh so original," she said smiling.

"There is a reason why men ask that. We all want to be ravished by younger women."

"And there are plenty who will gladly do it for a price."

"Ah too bad money had to be mentioned. I guess I will just have to dream, since I have no money. Actually I was going to try to borrow enough to pay for these beers."

"No way, I never pay for it." She gave me an evil smile.

"Hell, best I ever had I paid for," I said it smiling. "I can show you sometime."

"Call me," she said writing something on the rear of a business card then handing it to me.

After she left I finished my beer and then I headed for home. Home was still the motel. Fortunately the closing was less than a week away at that point.

As I was driving toward the motel after dropping Cindy at the airport, I saw a long row of bicycles sitting in front of a very old building. The hand lettered sign painted on the window of the building advised me that it was a thrift store and flea market. Since I had passed the building I had to turn the car around to get a better look.

I inspected the bicycles as if I knew what I was doing. All I really knew was that I didn't want to buy used bikes that looked like used bikes. So of course I didn't buy anything. I sat in the car getting myself ready to leave the parking lot when realized that I had made a terrible mistake by buying the old country store.

No I hadn't bought anything at the thrift store/flea market, but it also hadn't cost the owner a dime to get me in. I had seen his bikes as I drove down the road. He had drive by traffic and I would have none. No wonder the owner of the building had jumped at the change to sell it to me. I was as they say in poker drawing dead. I had no chance to win in that situation.

I would have been depressed except that I really wanted to be a beach bum. The business was just cover for me.

It had been less than 24 hours since the owner had accepted the contract on the building. Even so I drove out to take another look at the building. I was shocked to see the door open and men on the roof. The owner seemed to be trying to do everything at once.

One of the trucks was an Owen's Plumbing Company truck. I found Mr Owens himself checking the toilet and sink. "Hi there, I'm Eddie Wilson the buyer of the building," He just nodded, a man of few words I decided, "So everything going to be okay with the plumbing?"

"Yeah, gonna have to replace the hot water heater and then some drain lines but nothing much to it," he replied.

"Do you have a card, I might need some work done after I move in," I suggested. "By the way, be sure to check that floor drain please." I had plans for that drain, but he didn't need to know about them.

I returned to the motel with the bag from a fast food restaurant. All prisoners in any facility will tell you that they miss cheese burgers from a fast food restaurant most. Even if I had been in a country club prison, I was no exception.