Back at her reserved terminal, Sam clicked on the special email assigned to her compliments of the undetectable cyber fairies. She was stunned to find three emails, two from ex-wives and one from Martina Crystal. She read them and laughed as they printed out. Then she forwarded all the emails to Kayla’s brother.

Sam was turning off the computer when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement to her right. Someone else was turning off a computer. She made a production out of slipping on her coat and making her way to the restroom. Inside, after she shut the door, she cracked it to see the man dressed in casual clothes walk out the door. Her tail. She’d finally spotted him.

She took a moment to wish the day manager a Merry Christmas before she left. Outside, she crossed the street in the middle of the block when there was a break in traffic. She ran then, all the way to the hotel.

She knew even before she entered her room that someone had been in it. Call it woman’s intuition, gut instinct, whatever, and she was right. She felt smug when she looked down at the carry-on that she’d thrown on one of the chairs. It was off a centimeter. The contents were the same but had been jostled from one place to the other. Someone had gone through it. Detection 101, she thought in disgust. Well, there was nothing to find since she’d given her printouts to Olivia. She jammed the new printouts into her carry-on.

There was a message from Zoe saying dinner was at an Italian restaurant around the corner at seven. She ended the message with, “No need to dress up, it’s casual. Be in the lobby at six forty-five.”

“Works for me,” Sam said, heading for the bathroom. When she returned to the sitting area, she opened a small bottle of wine, poured it into a glass, sat down, kicked off her shoes, and propped her feet up on the bed. “Ahhh,” she sighed as she shifted her mental gears to the neutral zone.

Sam came mentally aware at precisely 6:40. She put on her shoes and her coat and reached for her bag. She took a minute to wonder if she needed the bag or not. She decided she didn’t. She removed the printouts, folded them into a tight square, and jammed them into the pocket of her slacks. It felt like the right thing to do.

It was like old home week in the lobby, with the girls laughing and jostling one another. Sam eyed Slick and Hawkins, who both wore sappy expressions. She grinned as she led the way out to the street. It was a brisk five-minute walk to the restaurant. It smelled heavenly to Sam, who loved Italian food.