Once I’m ready to leave, I grab my bag, the envelope stuffed inside, check my phone for messages, and, when I find none, hurry out my door. Once I’m downstairs, I stand in front of the bookstore that doesn’t open for an hour, unlock it, and then shut myself inside. I drop my purse by the door and rush through the building, halting under the tiles where I hid the cards Adam gave me the night he killed Kevin. I knew I saved them for a reason, and the reason is now. I’ve written about them in the notes to Mike, and I climb a ladder to retrieve them.
When I push aside the ceiling tile and reach for them, panic overtakes me. They’re not there. They’re gone.
Chapter Eighty
Adam knows and sees everything.
The missing cards drive home that point with brutal force. He must have followed me that night. He must have seen me place the cards in the ceiling. Or maybe there are cameras in the bookstore I don’t know about, and he tapped into those. Either way, the cards are gone, and I have a decision to make. Abort my mission to communicate with Mike or continue onward with it.
I can’t abort, no matter what the risk.
Two people are dead.
One was too many.
More might follow.
I do briefly consider randomly mailing in everything I’ve collected to the police station, or to the FBI offices where Mike works, but how long will that take to get to anyone who reads it? How many piles of tips and mail do they process daily? No. Time matters, and I cannot back down.
I have to act now, not later.
I hurry down the street to the quirky little coffee shop that Mike frequents and do so earlier than I’ve noticed him arriving in the past, in hopes of arriving before him, not after. Nerves shoot through about every part of my body as I enter the Caffeine Castle and walk to the counter, thankful there is no line.
There is an older man behind the register, about half-bald, but fit, as if he hits the gym and tries to hold on to any bit of his youth he can, if not his hair. I’ve never seen him before, but then I don’t come in often. I order coffee for me and Jack, pay, and when I should step aside, I reach in my purse and slide the envelope on the counter. “Can you please give this to Mike when he gets in? Discreetly, please?”
“Sure. He’s already been in today. We probably won’t see him until Monday. Is that okay?”
My spine stiffens, everything inside me resisting the delay, but there is no solution but to wait, not if I plan to follow through with this mission in a safe way. “Yes. Yes, that’s fine. Thank you for doing this.” I eye his name tag, and the ice in my chest is back. It reads ADAM. “Your name is Adam?” There is accusation in my voice I cannot quite tamp down.
“It is,” he says, grabbing a cup, an ink pen hovering just above the paper surface. “And yours is?”
“Mia,” I state. “My name is Mia.”
He scribbles that on the cup. “Okay, then. We’ll call your name when your order is ready, and I’ll get your envelope to Mike.”
“Thanks,” I say softly, but there is still the ice in my chest, which seems to have slid down my body and frozen my feet to the ground. What are the odds of this man’s name beingAdam? “How long have you been working here ...” I pause for effect and add,“Adam?”
“About a year. Know Mike real well. He’s been coming in awhile. Don’t you worry. I’ll see him Monday for sure.”
“Thanks,” I repeat, but my hope is now fear, and my fear is controlling me much as Adam does, with every beat of my once-happy heart.
Chapter Eighty-One
Adam.
That name is haunting me. I literally handed “Adam” my tell-all on “Adam.”
I’m berating myself for what feels like a stupid move during the walk to the library, but there’s really no time to process my own possible bad move. My cellphone rings, my earbuds announcing my father’s call. “Answer,” I order my Apple device, and the moment my father is on the line, he says, “I just saw the news. Did you know that young man who was in the bar fight? They said he worked at the library.”
“I did,” I say, but hearing his voice punches at my emotions and drives home how much I have to fight to keep him and his problems off Adam’s radar. “It’s a bit of a shock,” I add.
“Were you at the happy hour? The news said a group from the library was out together when the attack took place?”
“That’s what I hear, but I was at dinner with Jack.”
“Oh, thank God,” he gushes in relief. “I’m thankful you were there and that you’re safe and well. Makes you really realize how short life can be. All the more reason to get this patent sold and secure my family’s future.”
“Please don’t use Akia as a reason to sign a contract with Big Davis, Dad, and especially without meeting with the second attorney.”
