Page 8 of Love on the Line

Chapter 4

Devon slippedbehind the wheel of his car and waited for the blonde and her crew to leave the bar. His black BMW blended into the darkness in the farthest spot on the lot. Once the women pulled out, he followed from a safe distance.

Paul had been right. The blonde seemed to be the designated driver, dropping off her passengers. Three of them lived in small row homes in downtown Baltimore. He noted the addresses of each. Might come in handy later.

The next drop off was a half hour west of the city. He stayed back as they traveled the hilly country roads. Out of nowhere, a town popped up, and they were in the middle of civilization again. He raised an eyebrow when the Honda pulled into an upscale apartment complex. This was a far cry from the row homes.

The redhead got out and used a key to open the outer door. She wobbled before turning to blow a kiss to her friend, then disappeared inside. His blood warmed. Too bad Paul hadn’t picked her. She looked easily fuckable and lived well.

The small-town lights dimmed in the rearview mirror as he continued to follow. Ten minutes later, the Honda slowed and turned into the entrance of a small apartment complex. This made more sense. The ugly car fit right in with the others in the lot. The blonde parked. Open concrete staircases led to the apartment units above. She climbed to the third floor and entered a unit on the left.

Devon’s pulse quickened. Easy access. No cards to swipe or buttons to push for admittance.

He cruised the parking lot. Not a single BMW, Lexus, or Mercedes to be found. He’d need to rent or buy a vehicle that would blend in with the others while he watched the place. The muscles in his neck bunched. He unclenched his jaw and blew out a breath. His days of driving crappy cars should be behind him.

As much as it sucked, he needed to observe her routine and the others in the complex, so he would deal with a shitty car when surveilling the place. He could always take his Porsche or Lamborghini out for a fast, hard drive afterwards to expunge the putrid feeling of being encased by cheap vinyl and standard speakers.

He made another sweep of the lot, pausing to take down the license plate of her car. By morning, he would know her name and phone number. As he drove away, his lips curved in anticipation.

---