BooksBarbecue
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Chapters (86)
  1. Foreword
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. 50
  52. 51
  53. 52
  54. 53
  55. 54
  56. 55
  57. 56
  58. 57
  59. 58
  60. 59
  61. 60
  62. 61
  63. 62
  64. 63
  65. 64
  66. 65
  67. 66
  68. 67
  69. 68
  70. 69
  71. 70
  72. 71
  73. 72
  74. 73
  75. 74
  76. 75
  77. 76
  78. 77
  79. 78
  80. 79
  81. 80
  82. 81
  83. 82
  84. 83
  85. 84
  86. Afterword

When she got to her room she could tell the advance team had already been there. Cameras would be hidden everywhere, even in the bathroom, which she always felt was gratuitous.

She flung the bag on the bed, went into the bathroom, and threw up.

Then she ran a hot bath and lay in it for half an hour. She felt better when she got out. She wrapped herself in a robe and lay on the bed. She had the files to read but she needed a few minutes. She set a thirty minute timer and shut her eyes.

27

Laurel felt the adrenaline. She’d gotten too used to working from a desk, putting the pieces in play from the safety of Langley. Actually being in the field was a rush.

She’d already told Roth he could call off the surveillance and the van was just pulling away.

She walked into the mail store and looked around. It was nothing. Harmless. There was no one there but a kid in a Giants jersey playing on his phone, so bored he was almost comatose.

She looked for the camera the surveillance guys had installed and couldn’t see it. They’d done well, getting it in place while the police gave the owner a hard time.

She wasn’t sure how her defector was monitoring the mailbox and she hoped she wouldn’t have to wait too long for a response.

She browsed the store for a few minutes to maximize her chances of being seen.

“Can I help you?” the kid at the counter said.

“I’m looking for bubblewrap,” she said.

“Packaging materials,” the kid said, pointing to a shelf.

She examined the items on the shelf.

The mailboxes were at the back. They were clearly visible from every part of the store.

“I know someone who has a mailing address at this store,” she said to the kid.

He looked up at her. “We provide mail services.”

“She has a box.”

“Yes, we rent boxes there at the back.”

He was suspicious. After what had happened with the police, he was under no illusions this was an innocent inquiry.

“My friend rented hers without ID,” Laurel said.

The kid looked toward the door.

“Your friend?”

“Yeah.”

“We require identification for all box rentals,” he said cautiously. “It’s our policy with all boxes.”

“I see,” Laurel said.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he said, nervous now.

“I need to get a message to my friend,” Laurel said.

The kid said nothing.

Laurel reached into her pocket and handed him a card. It was from a bar a few blocks away.

“What’s this?”

“My friend wanted me to set her up with someone.”

“What?”

“A date.”

“With a guy?”

“Yeah.”

The kid said nothing.

“He’ll be at this bar tonight at midnight,” Laurel said.

28