Page 5 of An Eye For Illusion

Moore rises so hastily from his seat he knocks the poor waitress back on her heels. Luckily, she catches herself, no thanks to the douche who’s too busy storming past her toward the exit to give a damn.

I throw down enough bills to cover my beer and tip. I added a little extra for Moore since I’m sure he didn’t leave one, and from the way that poor girl nearly broke her ankle being thrown out of his way, I’d say she deserves one.

Moore slams his flat palms against the bar door, flinging it open before racing out into the cool night air. I have a feeling this is going to be a long night as I race after him.

I stay several car lengths behind Moore. Traffic is light, so I can’t risk being made this early in the investigation. I’m known for being stealthy, and I won’t break a perfect record on this guy.

I’m unsure what he’s up to, but his reaction to the news his “friend” wasn’t coming was strong enough to indicate something serious is going on here. I just have no idea what that is yet.

My phone rings through the speakers of the rental. I don’t even have to look down at the caller ID to know who it is. She calls me multiple times a day most days. For a woman who claims to be so damn busy, she sure has time to aggravate the hell out of me.

I let it ring through and go to voicemail.

Within seconds, Jade calls again. I’ve explained that I’ll update her when I have something to give an update on, but that isn’t good enough. Apparently, she wants updates on nothing. Until a few minutes ago, Moore hadn’t done a single thing to indicate he’s up to no good. Even now, I have nothing concrete, so there’s no need to update her.

The phone stops ringing only to start again seconds later.

It isn’t exactly safe to split my attention between the annoyance of Jade blowing up my phone and Moore increasing his speed as he passes cars ahead of him. He could be escalating, or he could have noticed I’m back here. I doubt he’s made me, though. Nothing in his background suggests he can spot a tail.

I click the button on my steering wheel and answer Jade’s call this time. If I don’t, she’ll just keep calling. I know this because I tested the theory earlier this week.

“Jade.” I try not to sound half as annoyed by her as I really am. She’s still a client, and I need to treat her as such. She’s paying for my services, which makes me grin. I sort of like the sound of Jade paying for my ‘services.’

“Colin,” she doesn’t hide her annoyance, “I’ve called you three times—”

“Four. You’ve called me four times in a row,” I interrupt her.

“So, you’re just letting my calls go to voicemail intentionally?” She huffs. Her voice is husky and irritated. I’m unwilling to admit how much I like the sound.

“I told you I’d call when I have an update. There is no update, so I didn’t call.” I stress that last part.

We have no reason to talk every day, much less multiple times a day. What she’s asking for is outside of normal protocol. We usually set a time each week to brief clients on any new developments.

Moore has gotten farther ahead of me, and his driving is becoming more erratic. Now I’m second-guessing myself. It appears he has noticed me following, which I find interesting. That tells me I need to dig a little deeper into his background. He shouldn’t have made me so easily, even with the light traffic.

I turn off and park in front of a boutique. I’ll need to change cars next time I tail him. Fuck.

“Colin, are you listening?” she shrieks this time.

No. No, I wasn’t listening. I was trying to do my damn job.

I can’t sit here. If he doubles back and sees my vehicle, my cover will be blown. I put the car in reverse and back out of the parking spot as I check my surroundings. I see no sign of Moore, so I turn back the way I came from and head toward the bar we just left.

My plans may be shot to hell now, but maybe I can still get some information tonight.

“I said I expect to hear from you daily. If there’s no update, call and say that. I wouldn’t have to call you multiple times a day if you were communicating with me.”

Communicate, pfft.

“Got it.” I won’t argue with her. If she wants me to call daily to say “Moore is squeaky clean,” then that’s what I’ll do.

There’s a pause, and I can picture the impatient look on her face. “Okay, so? What do you have today?” The tone of her voice solidifies that mental image.

“As indicated by my lack of a call… I have nothing to report.”

It’s a half-truth, but there’s no sense in telling her anything about tailing him when it led to nothing—so far. Other than maybe being caught because I was distracted by her constant calling. I should tell her that. Tell her that she’s ruining her own damn investigation because she’s being so fucking uptight.

“Well, find something! I know he isn’t the spotless, choir boy, do-gooder type he makes himself out to be. There’s something up with him, and it’s your job to find it.”

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