Page 84 of In the Line of Ire

"I hopeyou do. I doubt they'll be coming back what with the sale and all.This street won't even be here in a few more months." He turned hishead as someone called his name from the back of the house. "I needto finish packing. Is there anything else I can help youwith?"

"No,that's all, thanks."

Hepassed two cards over to me. "Those are for if you think ofanything else. Can you give one to Natalie too? I don't want tolose touch."

Ipromised I would before I crossed the street. The lights were offin the dog lady’s house and her car was gone. Walking over to thestudents' house, where several windows were lit up, I noticedsomething flapping on the door. When I got closer, I saw it was aneviction notice. The students lease had expired and they wereordered to leave within a week after the sale of that property. Itried knocking but no one answered. I peeked through the dirty,undressed windows and found all the rooms bare. It seemed they leftalready and forgot to turn off the electricity. There was no pointin waiting around so I gave up. I already had my answer and otherplaces I needed to be.

Climbingback into my car, I pulled a U-turn in the road and headed to mystakeout.

The parking lot had more cars than we anticipated at nine pmbut it was still easy enough to find a parking space close to whereSolomon selected as the best spot to park. I got out and walkedover to the entrance of the parking lot, finding a place where Icould stand and wait unobtrusively for Charlaine Beck's car toappear. I’d only been there a couple of minutes when Solomon's SUVwhizzed past and rounded the corner out of sight. Reaching for mycellphone, I saw several missed calls from Solomon so I pinged hima text message. A moment later, I got a return text:Didn't see you. Good work.

Then a second text popped up:Maddoxand Sadiq are here in position. You don't have a mic.

Damn! Iforgot about the meeting at the gas station where we were supposedto collect and synchronize our mics and earpieces.

I'll find you, came the nextmessage.

I lookedup as Charlaine's Mercedes rounded the corner. She flipped her longhair over her shoulder as she drove forwards. Except for her, thecar was empty.

No time, I texted,she's here. Alone. Black Mercedes.With my phone in my hand, I walked back the way Icame while looking for the car. As I scanned the parking lot, Icouldn't see the Mercedes anywhere. The two areas Solomonidentified as most ideal for a clandestine exchange were at theopposite ends of the lot. If I went to one and she went to theother, I would miss all the action.

Where is she?I texted.

Trees,came the reply.

I turnedto my right, crossing the parking lot as quickly as I could withoutattracting attention and heading for the cluster of parking spacesnear the treeline. There wasn't a lot of cover available but I madedo, dashing behind the occasional parked car the closer I got whenthe vehicles began to thin out. Upon reaching my car, I slippedinside it, quickly closing the door so the interior light went off.If they were being extra cautious, who knew what might alert ourtargets that they were being watched? Unfortunately, from where Iwas parked, my sight line was compromised. I could see Charlaine'sparked Mercedes but nothing to the right of the vehicle. As Iwaited, two other cars passed me. One continued past the Mercedes.The other, a Prius, turned and pulled into the adjacent space, withthe front of the car turned away from me, ensuring the driver'sface was completely obscured. I wondered what everyone else couldsee.

Do you recognize the Prius?cameSolomon's text.

No.

I wassure I never saw it before but then again, I hadn't seen any of mycolleague's vehicles at Page’s. I had to see the driver's face andthere was no way I could do that without either getting out andwalking over, or sitting still and waiting, all the while hopingthey passed me on the way out.

I cranedmy neck, watching the windows wind down as Charlaine and thefaceless person spoke. Charlaine didn't look happy and she made biggestures with her hands, shaking her head and saying something Icouldn’t hear. Then she gesticulated again and threw her hands upinto the air. Finally, she leaned towards the passenger seat andhanded a thick envelope through the window to her accomplice. Aphantom arm, clad in a blue denim jacket, reached for it. Somethinggold flashed at the wrist and then the envelope was gone. A momentlater, the arm popped back out, dropping something into Charlaine'swaiting hand. Abruptly, the Prius's reverse lights flashed on andthe car whipped back and turned quickly before barrelingaway.

As Iprepared to switch my car engine on, I saw an SUV pull out after itwith Maddox and Sadiq inside. Well, at least now I knew who wasfollowing Charlaine. The Mercedes drove off too and Ihesitated.

My phone pinged:GO. I'll pick upDelgado and follow.

I pulledout after the Mercedes and followed it from the parking lot to thestreet exit. At the intersection, the traffic lights began tochange. Rather than wait and risk losing Charlaine, I put my footdown on the gas and sailed through right after the Mercedes. Aglance in the rearview mirror confirmed Solomon didn't make thelight but I had no doubt he could catch up. If I had the mic on, asplanned, I could have easily informed him where I was headed butnow I'd have to make do with calling or texting as soon as wearrived at the location. Since Charlaine turned left instead ofright, I was reasonably sure she wasn't heading home. As we droveon, I had to wonder what she received from the driver of the Prius.An address for collecting more counterfeit purses, perhaps? Anothertime and date for the collection? Either way, despite her handingover what looked like a wad of cash in the fat envelope, the Priusdriver was obviously going to great pains to avoid being caughtwith the fake goods. From a criminal point of view, that wassmart.

Charlaine drove for ten minutes, circling back a couple oftimes, but I remained neatly behind her, certain she never spottedmy tailing her even if she were expecting that possibility.Finally, she turned into a strip mall off Century Street, drivingaround the side and pulling into a space next to a rusted-outminivan parked beside the wall. I pulled up nearer the store,rather than following her into a dead end. I parked at the end ofthe lot where I could watch her through my rear window, and for amoment, she remained still. I held my breath, waiting for her toget out and march across to me, demanding to know why I wasfollowing her. The lights went off and she got out but instead ofrunning toward me and accusing me of exactly what I was doing, shejust looked around.

A vanpassed my car and parked kitty corner to me, blocking my viewentirely. The owner got out and strolled toward a hardware supplystore. "Damn it!" I muttered as I craned my head. No matter whichway I tried, I couldn't see a thing. I also couldn't see Solomonand Delgado in the parking lot or anywhere else along the stretchof Century Street that was visible. Just as I feared, I must havelost them at the traffic lights. I pulled out my phone to callSolomon when I realized I could risk losing Charlaine too, now thatshe was out of the car. I decided as soon as I found out where shewas going, I would call him. For all I knew, she stopped off topick up something that had nothing to do with her criminalactivity. With that idea in mind, I got out of my car and hidbehind the back of the parked van, peeking outdiscreetly.

I caughta glimpse of Charlaine's jacket and hair as she walked around theback of the store and was instantly out of my view. Hurryingforwards, I followed her, pausing at the edge of the building topeek again. Charlaine stood in the shadows, her back to me and herhands deep in her pockets. In front of her, shaded by the building,was another person. They spoke quickly before the other personturned and opened the trunk of the car behind them, bending down toreach for something. Charlaine took the large, clear plastic bagshe was offered and dropped it on the blacktop, stooping to examineit.

Isquinted to identify the other person but the dark shadow combinedwith the baseball cap pulled down over their eyes made itimpossible to determine if it was even a man or a woman. All Icould tell was the car was not the Prius Charlaine met fifteenminutes ago in the supermarket parking lot. I pulled out mycellphone and zoomed in on the license plate before snapping aphoto. Even if I couldn't identify the driver, Lucas could trackthe vehicle registration information for me later.

On theground, Charlaine pulled out two large purses. She placed one ontop of the plastic bag and held the other up, turning it around toexamine each side. Then she opened it and looked inside. Apparentlysatisfied, she moved onto the next one, repeating the motion. Hervoice drifted towards me on the breeze. "The last batch were crap,"she said. "These are passable." She paused and added, "I know, butI can't risk getting exposed. I can talk my way out of one crappyknockoff but not out of ten and I need the money."

I heldup my phone and snapped a series of photos before she tucked thepurses back into the plastic sack and folded over thetop.

"I paidfor thirty purses," she continued. "There’re only twelve inhere."

Thefigure turned around and pulled out two more sacks, dropping themonto the ground between them. This time, I slid my camera phone tothe video setting. I secretly recorded Charlaine spot-checkingseveral purses before she stuffed them back into the sacks. "Sameagain in one month?" she said. "And they better be good qualitylike this... Yes, I know it's not a sale or return business; that'swhy I want to make sure the merchandise looks good up front. Sloppywork gets me into trouble and loses you business... No, I'm notthreatening you! What do you think I would do? Go to the cops! Oh,please! Like I said, I need the money. I've got bills to pay andall the contacts I need to sell these purses quickly."

"Thentake the purses and go," said the other person, audible finally. Awoman, I realized, but her voice didn't sound familiar. "Don't callus. We'll call you when we're ready to make the nextexchange."

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