Page 88 of The Lie Maker

“I’m not.”

“So pay attention.” Knight gave her a name and an address. Once. And ended the call.

Lana didn’t even have time for some mental profanity. She was repeating the information in her head, over and over. She immediately created an unaddressed email message—she’d send it to herself in a minute—and tapped out with her thumb what Knight had told her, so quickly that she made several typos. She made her corrections, looked it over, hoped she’d gotten it right, then sent the message to her own email address.

She went back into the courtroom, hoping she hadn’t missed much.

Forty-Five

Jack

“We need to talk,” I said to Gwen when I called her on the cell she had supplied me.

“About?” she asked.

“I don’t know that this is something you want me to discuss on the phone.”

She paused, then said, “Give me a hint, Jack.”

“It’s about Bill.”

“What about Bill?” She sounded very much on edge.

“I saw him on TV. A Law & Order episode. He was a waiter. I looked him up, found his profile online. His name is—”

“Jack. Stop.”

“Okay, sorry, but—”

“Jack!” Gwen snapped. “Shut up.”

I shut up.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Home.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes, I’m alone.”

“Listen carefully. Go to the window. See if there’s anyone out there.”

“What?”

“Be discreet about it. A peek. Don’t, whatever you do, stand right in the line of fire.”

“The line of—”

“Just look.”

I started crossing the room, my heart starting to beat a little more quickly. “Do you want me to call you back and—”

“Now, for fuck’s sake! Look now.”

I went to the window, pulled the curtain back from the edge, and furtively checked out the street. There were several cars parked out there, all empty. A red pickup drove past going one way, an old Corvette rumbled by in the opposite direction. There was no one standing there watching my place. Certainly no one sitting in a sports car, having a smoke, keeping an eye on my window.

“I don’t see anything suspicious,” I told her.

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