Page 9 of Tell Me All Your Lies

I head out down the pathway from my front door, ready to take on the evening.

“Oh, andMs. Collins?”

“Yes?” I ask while looking over my shoulder.

“Don’t go killing your future husband tonight.”

I smirk.

“No promises.”

TWO

Grant

“This is Grant.”

“Grant, it’s been a while,” Dodger says from the other line.

“Not since Reno.”

“Right, Reno. The Masked… What were we calling that one?”

“The Masked Millionaire.”

“That’s it. All the money in the world, and he still went and stole more from his friends.”

My driver slows to a stop at the flashing four-way stop. The engine roars to life, making me miss whatever small talk Dodger is continuing with.

“What do you say?” he asks.

“Missed it.”

Dodger clears his throat, obviously frustrated that I wasn’t giving him my full attention.

We have an interesting relationship, to say the least. He hates using me for contract work. There’s never been an incident to my knowledge, but what do I know? I usually stick to myself in this line of work. My personal life gives me enough opportunities toexperience connection, so I don’t need to become friends with anyone out in the field.

I tuned Dodger out again.

“Sorry, mate. It’s this reception out toward the sea. You understand.”

“I have a contract. I’m going for the Marlin, and it requires a partner. She’ll have a plan already in place,” he answers angrily.

“She?”

“She’s the best in the field. You’ll get along well.”

“What time? Where?”

“Tomorrow. My office. 0800 hours.”

“See you then.”

I hang up and slip my cell phone inside my tuxedo jacket pocket.

“Almost there, boss,” my driver calls out.

“Thanks.”

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