Page 7 of When You're Lost

“That’s right,” the owner confirmed.“He was quite polite—except for that odd moment with the watch.I assumed he was just careless.”

Amelia exhaled slowly.“He’s not.There had to be some reason for him to drop it.”She looked around the store again, taking in the layout.Central display counters formed a rectangle, with small gaps at the bottom.The area behind was a waist-high shelf for spare watch stands.She cast her gaze across each corner, each edge.

McNeil tapped his foot lightly.“Winters, we have enough for our report.Reed came, looked at a watch, left.The watch is fine.If there’s nothing else to discover, let’s move on.”

She said nothing, instead letting her gut guide her.Her eyes kept returning to the spot on the floor in the security footage where Wendell had crouched.It was right by the front of the main counter.“He bent down about here, didn’t he?”

Turner nodded uncertainly, shadowing her steps.“Yes, near that corner.”

Amelia advanced, kneeling by the display cabinet.The polished wooden base looked solid, but a narrow gap between the wood and the tiled floor might allow someone to slip something underneath.She pressed a palm against the wood; it had maybe a half-inch clearance above the tile.

McNeil grunted.“What exactly are you doing?”

Clint, sensing Amelia’s purpose, gently moved around to shine his phone’s flashlight into the space.“Here, let me help.The underside is dark.”

Amelia muttered her thanks, then crouched even lower, belly nearly touching the floor.She wiggled her hand into the gap.Her fingertips brushed something—paper.In a rush of adrenaline, she pinched and dragged it out.

“What is that?”McNeil demanded, stepping closer.Turner’s mouth fell open, while Clint held the phone’s light steady.

Amelia carefully eased the folded slip of paper free.It was small and slightly bent, as though crumpled in haste.She swallowed, unfolding it to reveal a short message in scrawled handwriting:

Ludgate Station, 2 PM.

She stared at it, heart pounding.“This… this has to be Wendell’s doing.”Her voice quivered with triumph and apprehension.

Clint exhaled, a low whistle.“Holy— So he did hide something.”

“Of course,” Amelia said, a tightness in her chest easing into something like vindication.She rose to her feet, turning the note so all three could see.“He doesn’t do mistakes, Inspector.”

McNeil, lips thin, examined the scribbled text.“Ludgate Station, 2 PM.That’s… today’s date?Tomorrow’s?”He checked his watch, voice still colored with reluctance to concede Amelia was right.“It’s almost one now.If this is for two o’clock today, that leaves us an hour.That’s not much time to get ready.”

Clint’s eyes flickered with both excitement and worry.“He’s giving a location and time—like an invitation or a meeting spot.Or a trap.”

Turner hovered near them, still shocked.“He must’ve placed it there when he bent down for the watch.I… I had no idea.”

Amelia closed the note, carefully putting it into a small evidence bag from her coat pocket.“We’ll treat it as potential evidence.Forensics can check for prints or residue, though I suspect Wendell will have wiped it.”

McNeil still looked displeased, though he seemed duty-bound to address Amelia more respectfully now.“We’ll inform the rest of the task force.Likely they’ll want eyes on Ludgate Station.Clint, you up for that?”

Clint nodded.“Absolutely.We can stake it out, see if he shows.”

Amelia inhaled slowly.She’d dreaded the possibility of facing Wendell again, but the lead was too tangible to ignore.“I’ll go as well.If that’s all right.”She tried to keep her tone civil, aware that McNeil might push back.

A flicker of frustration crossed his face, but he gave a curt nod.“Fine.We’ll need every available body.Let’s hope we’re not being drawn into a wild goose chase.”

Amelia slid her gaze back to the gap under the cabinet, thinking of Wendell’s cunning.“Even if it is a trick, it’s our best shot at catching him right now.He's playing games with us.There was no guarantee we'd find this.It's likely he thinks he's operating with fate on his side, and this was a test of that belief.”

Clint placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, just briefly.“Good instincts, Inspector Winters.If you hadn’t insisted on checking, we’d have missed that note.”

McNeil didn’t respond, but Amelia could almost sense his grudging acceptance that her presence had proven useful.Meanwhile, Turner stood behind the counter, looking as though he was ready to faint from relief that the police would handle this next phase.“Thank you for your help,” Amelia told him.“And if Wendell tries to contact you again or returns, call us immediately.”

The jeweler nodded, bobbing his head repeatedly.“I—I will.Thank you, Inspector.Detective Clint.Inspector McNeil”

The three officers walked to the door.McNeil opened it, letting Clint and Amelia step out into the chilly air.They paused on the pavement, the store’s CLOSED sign still hanging behind them.A mild wind stirred litter in the gutter.Amelia buttoned her coat, mind racing with the possibility that Wendell wanted them to be at Ludgate Station in less than an hour.

“Clint, get on the radio,” McNeil said, pulling his own phone from his pocket.“We’ll mobilize a small team.I’ll inform the higher-ups.Winters… you can join us, but keep your eyes open.If Reed’s there, he’ll be dangerous.He might be gunning for you.”

Amelia gave a short nod, adrenaline flaring in her veins.“Understood.”

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