Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Pulling my purse off my shoulder, I unzip an inside pocket to get my real phone out. It’s on do not disturb so I had no risk of any calls or text coming through from my second, secret phone. I’m in the middle of texting my friends in our group chat when I hear something.
Looking up, I suck in my breath and hold it as I listen. Nothing. A car drives by and I look, thinking the FBI van is going to pull in. But it’s a regular SUV with a family inside. They go past me, looking for a spot. My guard is temporarily down as I watch them pass by, and I don’t realize someone snuck up behind me until it’s too late.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
MIRA
“Jesus!” I jump when Mason’s hand lands on my arm.
“No, Mason, but I’ve been mistaken before. Usually it’s with an oh god, but I understand the confusion.”
“What is wrong with you?” I whirl around and step back.
“A lot is wrong with him,” Mason’s partner says and I just shake my head.
“You okay?” Mason asks.
“Yeah. Yeah. Just, uh, startled from you sneaking up on me.”
He sucks in air between his teeth. “Guess that PI school you didn’t go to forgot to teach you how to be vigilant.”
“I’m usually hypervigilant, thanks to trauma,” I tell him and shrug. “What happened with Enzo?”
Mason shakes his head, but his partner answers me. “He got picked up in a Bentley a block over.”
“Really? That was fast.”
“What was fast?” Mason asks.
“Pulling in,” the partner tells me and I look just in time to see a white van enter. Mason and I wait until it’s in the center of the garage before we get in.
“Whoa,” I say when I get in through the back. “This is just like the movies.” There are computers and cameras on the walls, two chairs attached to the floor so you can sit while doing surveillance.
“But better,” Mason says and sits on a little fold-out seat in the back, offering me the other chair. A man wearing an FBI jacket sits in the other chair, clicking through CCTV footage, following the expensive car Enzo got picked up in.
“This is my partner, Diego,” Mason tells me. “And our driver is Evan.”
“Hi.” I offer a wave and sit, smoothing out my black dress and then checking that I didn’t have a nip slip while running. This is a dress meant for slow walking in and out of swanky places, not running down a sidewalk, hiding in a public parking garage, and then climbing in the back of an FBI van. “You’re taking me home now, right? I would love to get out of these heels.”
Mason gives me a little bit of a surprised look and then lets his eyes wander up and down my body. Knowing he finds me attractive does bad things to me, completely distracting me from what’s going on here.
“I can,” Evan, the guy driving the van, says.
“Thanks,” Diego tells him and clicks through to another traffic cam. I could sit here all night and watch, fascinated with what they’re able to do, but I need to get home to my dog. I asked the sitter to let her out around nine PM, and if I’m out much later, it won’t be fair to Violet.
“Being picked up that quickly.” I go back to what’s important. “Does that mean someone was coming to get him because of the, uh ‘bakery’ issues or does it mean that there are people just like out and around in case a Moretti has a problem?”
“That is something for us to worry about,” Diego says and Mason gives me a nod, letting me know he can’t discuss this further. “So you didn’t see anything to indicate one or the other?”
“No, but it, uh, seemed like whoever was calling needed him. So someone coming to pick him up doesn’t seem out of the question.” And it’s much less scary than thinking there are mafia cronies just hanging out, waiting with a cement block and rope for the boss to give the word. Lake Michigan is a great place to dump a body.
“Okay, then let’s get you home.”
I take off the wire and earpiece and we drive several blocks to get to another car. I give Evan my address and we listen to music more than talk on the drive. I thank him and go inside my Lincoln Park apartment complex, texting the group chat that I’m home safe as I go up the elevator.
“Hey, sweet girl!” I coo as soon as I’m inside, dropping down to the floor to hug Violet. I kick off my shoes and she immediately picks one up, squealing with excitement as she wags her tail and presses her head against me. “I know, I know, I was late—again. But you have the best dog-nanny so don’t give me that look.”