I’d get over this. I’d gottenover it before.
If I could handle my own momleaving me, I could handle Gray leaving, too.
And next time, I’d remember thatI was on my own, and putting my faith in other people was stupid.
This was the last time Iplanned on getting hurt.
TWENTY-FOUR
GRAY
THE COFFEE SHOP looked more or lessexactly how I’dpictured it based on the reviews. Dark woods, dim lighting, those fancyvintage-style lightbulbs hanging too low over the tables, ethically-sourcedcotton upholstery in bright, intricate patterns covering the booth seats.
Ethically-sourced cottonalways smelled faintly of patchouli, for reasons I wasn’t entirely clear on.
Somewhere along the line I’d realized thatsince I wasn’t the intended recipient of the note, I had no idea who I waslooking for, and whoever was looking for Miles wouldn’t necessarily clue inthat I was here in his place.
This was why Fox was the PI,and I just stood around trying to look like it’d be a bad idea to screwwith me.
So now I was watching thedoor, sipping a hot chocolate that’d come with coconut milk by mistake.
I hated to admit that Iactually kind of liked it, so I was pretending to myself that it was regularmilk and I hadn’t been tricked into enjoying something I’d normally dismiss asnew-age bullshit.
I could never tell Loganabout this. I’dbe hearing about it for the next two decades if I did. Longer, maybe.
The clock behind the counterticked over to five past seven, and I started to think that I’d either beenstood up, or I hadn’t noticed whoever was here to see Miles. They should havebeen easy to spot, right? Sweating nervously and looking around?
Or they should have lookedlike hardened criminals, or… whatever.
What I couldn’t figure out waswhy. Why was Milesbeing targeted? He didn’t seem to know anything useful or dangerous, and hedidn’t strike me as the kind of person who made a lot of enemies.
At six minutes past seven, Igot my answer. Part of my answer, anyway.
The guy in the lab coat I’d run into whenI’d first showed up at Emerson Medical. The one who’d seemed afraid.
It could have been acoincidence, but he was exactly what I was looking for. Something out of place,someone who seemed like they shouldn’t have been there.
I could practically smellthe nervous sweat on him from here.
The moment he caught sightof me, his eyes widened. I stood, thinking fast, putting myself as subtly as Icould between him and the door so he couldn’t escape without going pastme.
The last thing I wanted todo was make a scene in public, and I was gambling onhimnot wantingthat, either. He’d picked a public place for hisownsafety, Iunderstood now. This wasn’t a hardened criminal.
This was someone with agrudge and just enough access to do some damage.
“Hi there,” I said as hisshoulders slumped, defeat washing over his face. He knew he was trapped. Heknew there was no easy escape here. “We bumped into each other over at EmersonMedical. Dunno if you remember.”
The guy swallowed thickly,his throat bobbing. There was no question that he remembered.
“Grayson Ward,” I said,offering my hand.
Stupidly, the guy reachedout to take it.
I clapped the other one overthe back of his, getting a grip on his wrist from both sides, a silentdon’t run.
This ended here and now, oneway or another. I was getting to the bottom of it today, and then Miles wouldn’t have to worryanymore.
“I think you and I shouldsit down,” I said, nodding to the booth I’d just vacated. I could feel a fewpeople looking at me, half-aware of what was going on, but I didn’t think they’dcause any trouble as long as I kept things civil.
