Page 132 of Tell Me All Your Lies

“What did she say?” Cara asks.

“She asked for details and just said she would be handling it.”

Cara shifts on the bed as she sits up against the headboard.

“I think we need to get dressed and wait for activity at his house.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Cara and I both quickly get back into work mode as we move around the bedrooms.

Almost in sync, we each get dressed in our respective rooms and then start putting on our weapons. It takes less than five minutes.

“We should stay in the house. Downstairs, front window will be the best view,” she says.

“You don’t think we should get closer?”

Cara shakes her head as she leads us downstairs.

“No, I think Taby will be paying Fred a visit and then you.”

I hate that she’s right. Fred is going to lie through his teeth about our findings. He’ll probably even share the truth about how he found us. It’ll be up to Taby to decide who she believes.

It’s possible she’ll head this way to torture the truth out of me or, better yet, kill me on the spot. All scenarios are possible when it comes to this dangerous world.

Caraand I stay seated at the front of the house for hours. One of us will occasionally pace around the house or get a round of coffees, anything to help the time pass.

It feels as if we’re watching paint dry on a wall.

This is all part of a stakeout, but at least we’re in the comfort of our own fake home to do it. I’ve run into Cara in the past while we’ve both been stuffed inside dingy tunnels in the dirt, waiting for deals to be made.

“Remember that time in Michigan?”

Cara perks up.

“When we both discovered we were watching that serial killer who was only killing his patients?”

“Yeah, that time.”

Cara laughs as she runs a hand through her hair.

“I hate to admit it, but I am glad you were there. That guy gave me the ick.”

I chuckle at the memory.

“He was certainly one for the memory book.”

“What about the time we ran into each other at the governor’s gala three years ago?”

“Yes, the first time I saw you seduce another man.”

Cara gives me a pointed stare.

“Pot, meet kettle,” she counters.

I raise my hands in the air in pretend defense.

“Fair enough.”

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