LB Gregg Romano and Albright 2 Trust Me If You Dare

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I ducked into the green grocer until the paparazzo disappeared around the corner. He was following
Kendal the woman he showed interest in from the start or he was headed to Posh Nosh to pester me in
some newfound way. What was his deal? I simply didn t understand his fascination with me. Granted, I
was Shep s first lover, but that was old news. It was evident that Jorge was following someone.
I was in the act of texting and walking-while-dodging-pedestrians (the one sport I m good at) when I
glanced across the street, and as soon as Jorge rounded the corner, Lester Finch emerged from the busy
Starbuck s.
I dropped my cell, jerking to catch the slippery son of a bitch, but tenderness in my upper extremities
made it impossible and my precious phone flipped from my fingertips. It smacked the concrete crack
and the screen shattered. Another hundred bucks gone. Unsurprisingly, the battery separated and bounced
into the storm drain.
I was officially tired of this entire week. Thank God it was Friday.
I jumped as spritely as I could manage, given my trussing, back into the doorway of the green grocer.
With all my stop and go and hopping around, I m sure somewhere someone in the Village was reporting
my behavior as suspicious, but that was too bad because I d bagged all three of Dan s most wanted in four
minutes without even trying.
Maybe I was in the wrong line of work.
Lester s eyes were hidden behind a pair of Terminator shades. They were vaguely threatening and a
little childish. His hands sported matching finger splints. The hulking blond didn t have a hat and for him,
that disguise would have actually worked. In one bandaged hand he held an iced Venti. It had a straw and a
mountain of chocolate-drizzled whipped cream. His splints stuck out like blades from around the cup as he
sucked greedily on his beverage. Lester waited on the corner for the light to change and smiled at an
orange-haired waif beside him.
I kept from sight until he made it safely to the opposite corner. He then headed west.
Where were these people going? And what bad guy drinks a Frappuccino during a chase scene? And
did I have enough time to pop in and get one? I d skipped breakfast.
I retrieved my ruined cell phone from the sidewalk and crept forward enough to look around the
corner. Lester s hatless head bobbed cheerfully away from me in the crowd. He was as carefree as a kid at
summer camp. Drinking his drink. Enjoying the morning. Waving at pretty girls with his silvery splints.
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LB Gregg
How could this happy idiot be the same criminal who broke into our home and terrified my elderly
grandmother? He breezed along without a care in the world, tra la la, with his I love my mother tattoo
and his six-dollar iced beverage.
I glared at the back of his knuckled head, now half a block ahead of me, and I found
myself& following him, which was an act of rashness expressly forbidden me by a certain bossy PI, but I
didn t want to lose sight of Lester and I couldn t reach Dan.
As frighteningly distasteful as he appeared to me, and as odd as our interactions had been, I couldn t
find a single reason for Lester Finch to terrorize me specifically. Other than the fingers but even that, why
would a man with no police record commit a felony over what was essentially a misunderstanding? It was
too extreme a step and too risky. He had absolutely nothing to gain from breaking into my house.
I made it as far as the corner, one short block from Posh Nosh, when the light changed. I pressed the
button on the crosswalk and glanced to the left. Dan s white Camry was parked in a line of cars on the side
street. Lester was now a block ahead, having crossed moments ago and theoretically, since Dan was on a
fucking stakeout, he should be on that. He had peeped; it was time for him to lurk. Wasn t that what the car
was for? To follow suspects? But oddly, it didn t budge.
Why was he just sitting there?
I could go tap on the window and say hello, maybe scare him for all those times he d yanked me into
a closet, alley or dressing room, but I wouldn t blow his cover. This was the real world and stakes were
theoretically high.
I waited for the light to turn green and the Camry s passenger door opened. Jorge Carrera climbed out. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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