Page 50 of Stuart Woods' Golden Hour

When the platform came into view, Billy whispered to Stacy, “How are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m great. Never better.”

“Happy to hear that.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Really?” he said drolly. “I wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t said so.” His tone turned serious. “When we leave, stay close.”

Stacy’s expression turned wary. “Are you expecting trouble?”

“I doubt that we’ll be in any danger, but it would be a mistake not to remain vigilant.”

“That’s not as comforting as you may think it sounds.”

The train finally stopped, and the line of people waiting to disembark began moving.

When Billy stepped onto the platform, he casually glanced back toward their private car. Sure enough, a crowd of gawkers were gathered there, waiting to catch a glimpse of the movie stars.

As his gaze swung back, he scanned the crowd and spotted a watcher. The man was standing to the side and had a phone pressed against his ear. Others might have thought he was in the middle of a conversation, but Billy saw it for the ruse it was. What the man was really doing was observing the passengers leaving the train.

Billy touched Stacy’s arm. “How about we get a photo of you?”

“Here?”

“Say yes,” he whispered.

“Um, yes, Billy. I would love a photo.”

He guided her to the spot he wanted, then positioned himself so that the watcher was visible over her shoulder.

He raised his phone. “Smile.”

He snapped off a couple of close-ups of the man, then a few wider pictures of Stacy.

He showed her one of the latter. “How’s this?”

“Oh, that’s good,” she said, surprised. “Can you text it to me?”

By the time they exited the station, he’d identified and photographed three more watchers.

“There you are,” Lizzie said, jogging up to them. “I thought we lost you.” She pointed at a boat tied to one of the docks. “That’s ours. Everyone else is on board. We’re just waiting for the luggage.”

As she said this, a pair of attendants exited the station, pushing carts piled high with their bags.

“And I guess we’re set,” Lizzie said. “Follow me.”

Once they and the luggage were aboard and the ropes untied, the boat motored into the wide canal.

Billy kept an eye on the station the whole time. Just before it disappeared from sight, two of the watchers raced out and started searching the crowd.

Neither man looked in the boat’s direction, however.

“Billy,” Stacy said. “What are you looking at?”

“Just a couple of rodents, scurrying around.”

“More moles?”

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