“That’s why we stopped. To use the phone.” He jerked his head at the pay phone mounted on the building. “Let’s go.”
“But I don’t have the number.”
“Ever heard of directory assistance?” He snarled and held out his cell, thumb above the send button. “Now get out.”
She climbed out and trudged carefully through the snow toward the building. Without her jacket, the cold bit into her, but she relished the chill as it helped clear her head. He came up behind her and nudged her forward at a faster pace.
She reached the phone and stared at him. “Payphone. No money.”
“Enough stalling.” He dug into his pocket, leaving his cell exposed. She shot her hand out to grab it.
He moved his hand out of reach and laughed. “Knew you’d try that.” He produced a few coins and offered them to her. “Hold out the phone so I can hear the conversation.”
His thumb returned to the perch above the send button.
She snatched the coins and got Greg’s number from information then dialed. He answered on the third ring, and she held the receiver between them, hating that Smith moved close enough for her to smell his disgusting breath.
“It’s Megan,” she said, letting her distress flow through her words, hoping he would notice it. “Do you have the money ready?”
“Yes.”
“I need you to bring it to Starbucks.” She gave him the location and waited for him to ask why she was on the opposite side of town.
“Why there?”
She wanted to tell him but Smith held out his phone reminding her of the threat to Ella’s life.
“That’s where the FBI agent asked for me to meet you,” she lied.
“I don’t know, Megan. This seems weird. Why wouldn’t he have me bring it to your house?”
Smith elbowed her in the ribs and mocked pressing his thumb on his phone.
She stifled a groan and glared at him. “We’re not staying at home right now because of the threats. Look, Greg, this is hard enough without you arguing with me. Can you please meet me at Starbucks?”
“Sure,” Greg said. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
“Thanks.” She hung up.
“There,” Smith said. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now let’s get over to Starbucks.”
Megan headed for the coffee shop. She hated that Smith had bested her, but she had to admit his plan of using his cell instead of a gun to keep her in line was a good one. They could move around in public, and no one would suspect anything. He would get what he wanted, the money.
And what about her? What would happen to her?
She glanced at him, his eyes glazed with greed and rage. Once he had the cash in his hot hands, she was certain she would die. The only questions left.
How would he kill her and would he kill Ella too?
Reid and Jack charged down the dark, dank hallway toward Smith’s apartment. Reid only hoped that the last known address was good for him.
They reached the door and both of them drew their guns, though neither of them really expected him to be home. It would be highly unlikely to bring Megan here where she could be readily found.
“A quick reminder,” Jack said. “This is official business, and you shouldn’t be here. I’m in the driver’s seat. Stay in the background and let me do my thing.”
Reid gave a quick nod, and Jack pounded on the door. “FBI.”
No answer.
