Page 164 of Rush of Jealousy

“Well, he is forcing me to spend time with his ex-wife for the sake of their son. So we are going to carve the turkey together and play nicey-nice for a few hours. And then I’ll probably stay at his place and spend all his money online shopping for Black Friday gift buying. I saw a ton of things that I want for myself—from him.”

I laugh and then give her a hug. “Thanks for doing this for me. If you can take any pics or video anything, that would be great. Just do not get caught.”

“I got this.”

“I sure hope so.”

* * *

It is quarter to five when my phone rings with a call from Claire playing “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” as the ringtone. I have been nervous for the past hour over her being at the Hideaway. I am lying on the king bed, rummaging through my previous email I sent to myself about Mark and consolidating the information into one document.

I take a deep breath and answer. “Hey.”

“Angie,” she whispers.

“Yeah? What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“In the parking lot at the Hideaway. It was too risky going inside since Mark has met me before, so I’m camped out in the backseat of this taxi.”

“Don’t get caught.”

“I won’t. The windows are tinted.”

“What’s happening?”

“More people just showed up. They are all talking outside.”

“Okay…”

“You know I’m not typically a paranoid person, Angie. But something seems really off about this. Like someone or something is going to hit an iceberg without any knowledge of its size or magnitude. Do you want to be the freaking Titanic? Have all the warning signs but still never see it coming? I think it would be best to cut your losses. Find a different topic. Anything but continue this.”

“I’ll be fine. What do you see now?”

“Packages being exchanged.”

“To whom?”

“To Paul and to some other guy who just showed up.”

“Can you tell who he is? What he looks like?”

“No. He has on sunglasses and a ball cap. Appears young. Shorter than Paul.”

“Do you think these men are the deliverers? The middlemen?”

“I have no idea. But I’ve watched enough crime shows to know when to bail ass home. So, taxi man,” she says, moving the receiver from her mouth, “take me home, please.”

“Snap a picture before you leave. I need to see if I can recognize the last arrival.”

“That sounds like a horrible idea,” she sighs.

“Why?”

“Because that idea sounds like you’re still going to pursue this shit. Do I need to go to Graham and squeal on you? Should I completely out you in order to protect you?”

Like the sinking of the Titanic, the warning signs are visible. However, when you think you are unsinkable, you make rash decisions that easily can put your life in danger. This whole thing is bigger than me. But I am too far involved. I am so close to figuring it all out.

“Only if you want to be responsible for my failure with my future career.”

---