Page 180 of Callan

It’s a two-piece ensemble comprised of a sexy one-button jacket and pants that hug my hips.

It’s not meant to be worn without a blouse, although, honestly, wearing something so sexy at work could easily get me in trouble.

Luckily, I don’t have a job to worry about. Not yet.

I slide it off the hanger and swiftly make up my mind. I’ll put it on over a sexy bra and panties. And it will look great.

Wasting no time, I dig a new set of lingerie from a drawer, peel off my bathrobe, and put my underwear on before sliding my pantsuit on.

Man, it looks great. A deep blue-gray color, perfectly assorted with red lipstick that I will put on right now.

Moments later, I toss a coat over my shoulders, slide my feet into a pair of heels I’ve never worn and will surely kill my soles, and storm out without looking back.

28

CALLAN

Calm,I watch her disappear in the foyer before a mask of ice slides over my face.

I zip my phone to my ear and spin around like bitten by a snake, quickly heading back.

Back to where they’d almost killed her before I got to her.

“Tell me,” I say, my teeth grinding.

“Two are down,” my man says at the other end of the line. “And two escaped. The place is clean.”

“Thanks.”

I end the call and tap another number.

“What the hell was that?” I ask Carlos, the man in charge of keeping everyone alive, myself included.

“We’ve gotten played.”

“Obviously. Who were those people?”

“Friends of some friends of your illusive friend.”

“What makes you say that?”

“They knew we were watching the building. They also knew we weren’t there because of the neighbor and the people she keptcompany with. They had men at the building as if waiting for the girl. They either followed her in Manhattan as we did or covered a bigger area on her street. Or they simply put a tracking device on her. Either way, they made their move and sent a message.” He sighs. “That’s not even the biggest problem,” he continues. “They want to hurt her to hurt you, which pretty much gives it away.”

“Yes, it fucking does…” I say, sunk in thought, my voice trailing off. “All right,” I add in a different voice. “You know what to do. I’ll have her with me tonight. Check her place for listening devices and surveillance equipment. I’ll take care of the rest.”

I end the call and pivot to check the street.

Things look normal.

There’s not the slightest sign of unusual activity.

Muffled noise comes from behind the windows where people celebrate.

A cab crawls down the street and stops short of her building. I watch a pair climbing out, crossing the street, and entering a different building.

Nothing strange is going on.

And yet, only minutes ago, four men, four––the thought makes my fists tighten––chased her out of the park.

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