Page 38 of Return Ticket

She walked forward, and as she did, the fog enveloped her again. She reached the passenger window, on the pavement side, and rapped hard against the glass.

She had the sense of him starting within—perhaps he’d been asleep—and then she opened the door, half expecting it to be locked. But it wasn’t. It swung open, and she bent a little, staring straight at him.

“What are you doing here?” She was proud her voice wasn’t as thin and high as she was afraid it would be. “Why are you watching me?”

He was shocked. She could see it on his face in the weak interior light that had come on when she’d opened the door.

“Well?” She narrowed her eyes.

She saw the moment he decided to bluster—his gaze slid to the side and then back to her, and he sat a little straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, missy.”

She laughed in his face. “You know full well. So let’s hear it, why are you following me? And how did you find out where I live?”

He lunged toward her, and she stumbled back, but he was simply going for the door. He pulled it shut, locked it, and started the car.

She stood on the pavement, wondering what she could do, when Solomon suddenly appeared in front of the car’s bumper.

Jerome seemed to materialize out of the fog beside her, and George was on the driver’s side.

The man had locked the passenger door, but he hadn’t locked the driver’s door, and George pulled it open, reached in and switched the engine off.

For a beat there was absolute silence and then Gabriella walked around to stand next to George.

“The lady asked you a question,” George said.

Mr. Green Jag seemed to fold in on himself, eyes darting all over the place. “Let me go.”

“Not until you answer the question.” Solomon rapped his knuckles on the front bumper. “Can’t be too hard, now can it?”

“I just wanted to have a word with her,” Mr. Jag mumbled. “Warn her not to say anything.”

“Looked like you were running away to me,” George said.

“I decided it was a mistake to approach her this way,” Mr. Jaguar said.

“Say anything about what?” Gabriella asked, pushing aside the fact that he was talking to George, ignoring her standing right there.

“About where I was when you fined me.” Mr. Jag snapped out the sentence, finally looking at her.

“To who?” She lifted her hands, baffled.

He was silent for a moment. “My wife,” he said eventually.

“How would your wife even know to ask me?” Gabriella asked.

“Not her personally.” Mr. Jag sneered as he said it, lifting his nose slightly. “But she’s hired someone to look into it. The Jag’s in her name, and she got the fine. Well, not at first, I saw it come in and I threw it away. But somehow one got through before I could ditch it. And she suspects I intercepted the others, so now she’s suspicious.”

“And she told you this?” Gabriella asked, flummoxed. What lives did these people live?

“No.” Again, the condescending sneer. “I overhead the conversation she had with the private detective on the phone.”

“Picked up the receiver in another room, did you?” Solomon asked, with an amused grin.

Mr. Jaguar gave him a cold look, then turned his head to glare at Gabriella. “Never mind. Just keep your mouth shut, you hear?”

“Or what?” George asked softly.

For a moment, Mr. Jaguar was quiet.

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