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  67. 3:46 a.m.

I don’t know how I want to respond. Or if I even want to respond. I’m still miffed she lied to me about her meeting with President Sullivan. The meeting itself didn’t overly concern me. After all, Ingrid had been in charge of the murder investigation in which Sullivan was the primary suspect. The sit-down could easily be a routine follow-up. But then why lie and say the meeting was canceled?

From the text message, Thanks for coming this morning, it sounded as though Sullivan was the one to request the meeting. I’d come to like the guy, but liking someone and trusting them are two different stories. Ingrid and I had been dating for six months, but this translated to roughly sixty or seventy hours of face time. I wasn’t exactly sure where our relationship stood. How could I be certain I was meeting all her emotional and, let’s be honest, physical needs?

I text back: MOVIE WAS OKAY. NO CLUES.

BUMMER….GOT A NEW CASE...SERIAL KILLER….CALLS HIMSELF THE POPE...MIGHT NOT SEE YOU FOR A WHILE.

OK.

YOU ALRIGHT?

YEP. JUST BUSY.

OK. I’LL KEEP MY EAR TO THE GROUND ABOUT YOUR MOM.

THANKS.

DON’T GET SUCKED INTO MEN IN BLACK 2. NEVER SAW IT, BUT IT GOT TERRIBLE REVIEWS.

I WON’T. SEE YOU LATER.

I’m tempted to text her to tell President Sullivan hi for me, but I set the phone down before I do something stupid.

It’s 3:37 a.m.

“Let’s go!” I yell.

Lassie jumps off the back of the couch. I reach for his leash, then think better of it. It’s been three days since he was outside. His nerves are just as shot as mine.

One minute later and I’m sprinting down the side street, Lassie nipping at my heels.

The only way not to think about Ingrid is to think about my mother. Still, it takes a mile until I rid Ingrid from my thoughts. I’m tempted to text her goodnight, to tell her I’m so glad she came into my life. That I don’t care if she lied to me about meeting the President. That I trust her. That I love her.

I shake off the thought and tap Ingrid out and tap my mother in.

Initially, I thought my mother recreated an Amazon package and left it on my doorstep, but that wasn’t the case. She’d ordered the package from Amazon, therefore, the packaging didn’t have any clues written inside, not unless the person who packed and shipped the DVD colluded with her. This meant the DVD wasn’t doctored either. So then why go through all the trouble of sending it?

Unless the name of the movie itself meant something.

Men in Black.

CIA, right?

That was obvious. But was there more to it? Did it have something to do with one of the actors?