Assumed Identity(43)
He bargained with the silent red alert churning through his blood by slipping out of his hiding place and moving down the street to scan for the green sedan that had been watching her place the other night. There was no green car, but there was plenty of traffic tonight—people leaving work, others pulling into empty spaces to try out the coffee bar or dance club on the corner.
Funny how nobody noticed a man strolling through the shadows if he didn’t want to be noticed. A trio of women heading into the club breezed right by him, either too eager to get to the party or too ignorant of the dangers of this neighborhood to pay him any mind. A young couple exited the coffee bar. The woman bumped Jake’s shoulder as he turned the corner, and she mumbled an apology without taking her attention away from the man she was with.
Was he really that good at blending in? Or were these covert skills an unfortunate byproduct of having a face that no one really wanted to look at? Pretty good cover for a hit man or whatever kind of lowlife he might have been in his forgotten past.
Swallowing the bile that the possibility of being that kind of man invariably triggered in him, Jake walked another half a block without any sign of the green sedan and turned into the alley behind the businesses to make his way back to Robin’s shop. He hoped her car was gone before he had to get back to finish his shift at the Shamrock. And if she was still there...
What the hell?
Jake pulled back against the bricks when he recognized Bow-tie guy from the shop pulling into a parking space and getting out. Maybe the guy had an aversion to exercise and half a block was too far to walk after work. But those sly looks up and down the street before reaching back into the car and pulling out a flat manila envelope made Jake think this stop wasn’t about laziness. When Bow-tie guy walked to the car parked directly in front of him and climbed into the passenger side, Jake’s suspicions jumped up another notch.
He inched out of the shadows to read the plate number of the first car and try to get a glimpse of the driver. The angle was wrong to see a face, but the dark clothes and general build could have been a match for the man in the green sedan the night of the assault. Was this a different rental car? If so, why would the guy go to so much trouble to cover his tracks and mask his identity? Or was this the guy who’d accosted Robin outside the Shamrock? Could they be the same man?
What was clear were the unmistakable signs of an exchange taking place. Bow-tie guy opened the envelope and pulled out a pair of photographs. Again, the angle was wrong to see the images clearly, but Jake thought he could make out a dark round halo that could be a head of hair. Pictures of Robin? Emma? Something else? The driver quickly pushed the photos down into the seat between them and pulled a business-size envelope from his jacket. He didn’t need Bow-tie guy to open the envelope to know that it was cash.
Jake took another step onto the sidewalk, thinking how easy it would be to get into Bow-tie’s car and be waiting for him when he returned. He didn’t doubt that he could get a few answers out of him. But the driver pulled out a cell phone and Jake saw the gloves he was wearing—on a balmy spring night—and realized that he was the bigger threat.
If this interchange was a threat at all. Jake inhaled a deep, steadying breath as the driver pulled the phone from his ear and asked Bow-tie a question before returning to his call. Had it always been his nature to suspect a conspiracy wherever he looked? What if there was an innocent explanation for this? Bow-tie had printed some pictures for a friend. He’d designed a floral arrangement and been paid a commission for his work. Even if it was something a little less savory, like selling porn or insider trading, it didn’t necessarily have anything to do with the danger lurking around Robin and Emma.
Except... Ah, hell. Of all the people in this busy neighborhood to finally notice him, the driver glanced up into his rearview mirror, then turned in his seat to look right at Jake.
Maybe he suspected Jake was a cop who’d seen the questionable transaction. Maybe the driver just wanted to know why he was curious about his business.
Either way, the meeting was done. The man with the gloves ended the call. Bow-tie guy scrambled out of the car. The driver pulled out and turned the corner, heading north toward Robin’s shop. Jake obeyed his instincts, even if he didn’t understand where they came from. Ducking back into the alley, he ran its length until he burst out into the parking lot, just in time to see a dark-clothed figure scurrying across the sidewalk and jumping into a car parked in front of the shop.
Had he been in the shop? With Robin?
“Hey!” Jake shouted.