men brushed past her on their way out. “Thank you, but I’m sure you placed it in my bag.” She opened up the top.
“Oh, you’re right. Sorry. I must have printed a duplicate. Never mind.” He waved and turned away, placing the box back under the register.
After a slight wave of her hand, she exited the building and back out into the cement intensified heat. She slipped in her car, thankful for the space she was able to get close to the door. She started the car and air conditioning, wincing from the blast of hot air that hit her in the face. As the car cooled, she took the postcards from the bag and opened the package.
Just note cards. Nothing special. Pretty pictures.
She set the cards in the seat next to her. Looked at the door and considered going back in. Wondered if she got the wrong package. She watched two men, maybe the same two from before, head for the door.
Saw the old man flip the sign to closed.
The two men knocked.
Old man shook his head.
The two men looked at her. Stared right at her from behind their sunglasses before turning and walking away. She watched them go down the sidewalk, turn a corner and vanish from view. She looked back to the shop. The old man looked out the window and shook his head slowly. Pointed to the seat next to her.
She flipped through the cards again. About halfway through, she found a picture of the book with wavy lines. She turned it over.
Blank.
But she knew what it said.
"I can help you. You must know that you are being watched and manipulated. The people doing this are dangerous and will go to great lengths to keep me away from you. I am watching as well, and won’t let them harm you, but you must keep to your routine. I’ll contact you again, soon. Be careful."
Carolyn’s heart raced as she completed the note. The note that wasn’t there, but was as clear as day. "Who’s watching me?" She considered the possibilities.
The old man.
The two men.
Someone else.
Were they dangerous or there to help? Who could she trust? The questions ran through her mind, not taking the time to be answered to take root. She looked around. Saw nothing out of the ordinary. No men. Closed shop.
Deep inside, she felt that she could trust the anonymous helper, but she couldn’t be sure if the emotion was her own. Not anymore. She could be playing into the hands of the people out to harm her.
She drove back home. Thought about the different options. Only one answer seemed to ring true. She was being watched. This person, whoever it was, wanted to help. She prayed that the conclusion was her own.
CHAPTER 12
Simon Klein sat in the small booth. He watched men and women walk by, wondering which of them, if any, sent him the note. Each time someone passed he hoped and feared they’d stop and sit.
During the cab ride over, he felt good about the meeting. Hope that he might get answers. As soon as he stepped out, fear planted a seed. He was alone, in a place he’d never been, hoping to meet someone about an ailment that had ruined his life.
As he waited, the seed grew. Worries that this was just a step in some plot to destroy him. Maybe just a practical joke. Maybe someone just wanted him out of his house. He tried to remind himself that he was probably safe. He was surprised to stop at a restaurant. He’d expected someplace more private. He had to admit, though, he was glad there were other people around.
He sipped on his water, still waiting.
Almost choked on a piece of ice when the waiter slipped his menu under his arm. He hadn’t seen or heard the waiter approach. He might have admired the talent under different circumstances.
"I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to startle you."
He cleared his throat. "That’s okay. I was just thinking."
"Very well, sir. I believe you’ll be dining alone this afternoon. Can I offer you a glass of wine? Or perhaps a cocktail."
"Wine would be nice. A Riesling. I’m expecting someone to join me,
“Oh, you’re right. Sorry. I must have printed a duplicate. Never mind.” He waved and turned away, placing the box back under the register.
After a slight wave of her hand, she exited the building and back out into the cement intensified heat. She slipped in her car, thankful for the space she was able to get close to the door. She started the car and air conditioning, wincing from the blast of hot air that hit her in the face. As the car cooled, she took the postcards from the bag and opened the package.
Just note cards. Nothing special. Pretty pictures.
She set the cards in the seat next to her. Looked at the door and considered going back in. Wondered if she got the wrong package. She watched two men, maybe the same two from before, head for the door.
Saw the old man flip the sign to closed.
The two men knocked.
Old man shook his head.
The two men looked at her. Stared right at her from behind their sunglasses before turning and walking away. She watched them go down the sidewalk, turn a corner and vanish from view. She looked back to the shop. The old man looked out the window and shook his head slowly. Pointed to the seat next to her.
She flipped through the cards again. About halfway through, she found a picture of the book with wavy lines. She turned it over.
Blank.
But she knew what it said.
"I can help you. You must know that you are being watched and manipulated. The people doing this are dangerous and will go to great lengths to keep me away from you. I am watching as well, and won’t let them harm you, but you must keep to your routine. I’ll contact you again, soon. Be careful."
Carolyn’s heart raced as she completed the note. The note that wasn’t there, but was as clear as day. "Who’s watching me?" She considered the possibilities.
The old man.
The two men.
Someone else.
Were they dangerous or there to help? Who could she trust? The questions ran through her mind, not taking the time to be answered to take root. She looked around. Saw nothing out of the ordinary. No men. Closed shop.
Deep inside, she felt that she could trust the anonymous helper, but she couldn’t be sure if the emotion was her own. Not anymore. She could be playing into the hands of the people out to harm her.
She drove back home. Thought about the different options. Only one answer seemed to ring true. She was being watched. This person, whoever it was, wanted to help. She prayed that the conclusion was her own.
CHAPTER 12
Simon Klein sat in the small booth. He watched men and women walk by, wondering which of them, if any, sent him the note. Each time someone passed he hoped and feared they’d stop and sit.
During the cab ride over, he felt good about the meeting. Hope that he might get answers. As soon as he stepped out, fear planted a seed. He was alone, in a place he’d never been, hoping to meet someone about an ailment that had ruined his life.
As he waited, the seed grew. Worries that this was just a step in some plot to destroy him. Maybe just a practical joke. Maybe someone just wanted him out of his house. He tried to remind himself that he was probably safe. He was surprised to stop at a restaurant. He’d expected someplace more private. He had to admit, though, he was glad there were other people around.
He sipped on his water, still waiting.
Almost choked on a piece of ice when the waiter slipped his menu under his arm. He hadn’t seen or heard the waiter approach. He might have admired the talent under different circumstances.
"I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to startle you."
He cleared his throat. "That’s okay. I was just thinking."
"Very well, sir. I believe you’ll be dining alone this afternoon. Can I offer you a glass of wine? Or perhaps a cocktail."
"Wine would be nice. A Riesling. I’m expecting someone to join me,
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