“I need to take a picture of your driver’s license,” I said.
“What for?” He arched an eyebrow.
“Before I climb into this vehicle that looks like it’s last been seen at a murder scene, I’ll need to make sure I won’t end up in the news as your next murder victim.”
He snorted a laugh, reaching for his wallet again, then mumbled something about women and their overactive imaginations.
I took a picture of his driver’s license and sent it to Aisha and Liam.
“Do you have a company ID?” I asked next. Better to be safe than sorry.
From another back pocket, he pulled out a badge on a lanyard. His picture was on it. He even smiled here, which he’d never done in the few short minutes that I’d known him, unless I counted his numerous smirks.
“Why aren’t you wearing it?” I demanded.
“I was. I took it off when they told me the client wasn’t coming.” He heaved a long-suffering sigh, clearly getting annoyed with my suspicions. “Are you done with your interrogations? Because the plane isn’t going to wait forever.”
What else could I ask him for? Fingerprints? Police clearance report? It wasn’t like he’d personally fly me across the country. What was the worst that could happen on a drive to Teterboro?
“Get in.” Leslo tipped his head at the passenger’s seat, holding the door open for me.
I climbed into the seat. Leslo started the van and got us moving. I did it. I was going to make it on time after all.
Leslo remained silent, for which I was grateful. I had no desire or time for small talk. Instead, I send messages to both Liam and Aisha, updating them on my plans with an estimated time of my arrival.
“Cute dude,”Aisha replied to my text with the picture of Leslo’s license.
Cute?
He was conventionally handsome, I supposed. But that tattooed, bulky look Leslo was going for did nothing for me. I preferred men in expensive suits with their minds sharp as a blade and their ambitions matching my own.
Was Liam that man? He certainly had a closet full of very expensive suits and made partner at the firm when I did not.
I glanced up from my phone for a moment, then took a second look, noting the road Leslo was driving on.
“Um, why are we going south when the road to Teterboro is north from here?”
“Traffic,” he replied, not looking at me.
“How is driving through Midtown Manhattan going to result in less traffic for us?” I asked, confused.
“It will,” he said, not elaborating.
I put my phone down.
A hair-thin string of alarm tightened inside me. It was possible that there was some traffic on the road to Teterboro. Construction maybe? Or an accident? I still had some time for a detour if it didn’t delay us much.
But something about Leslo had changed, and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rose in apprehension. His face was void of any expression now, looking more like a stone mask. He didn’t grow tense or stiff, just completely...blank. Like he no longer had the need to even appear human.
I cleared my throat, eager to break the grave silence that had descended upon the van.
“Listen,” I cleared my throat. “I sent the picture of your driver’s license to everyone I know.”
He remained silent, staring straight ahead, like I hadn’t spoken at all.
I lifted my phone and snapped a picture of his face.
That got his attention. He flinched. Hitting the button on his door, he opened his window, then grabbed the phone from my hand and tossed it out of the window.
