the items. “I swung by the office and picked you up one of our secure laptops. It’s all clean, should be untraceable. No guarantees in this day and age, but as close as you can get.”
“Excellent. I’ll do some research.”
“And best of all…” Sam produced two coffees, a bagel, and some other assorted items and set them in front of Christine.
Christine made a sound that wasn’t quite human as she picked up the coffee nearest to her and practically inhaled a gulp.
“Thank you,” she breathed.
Sam looked on, amused. “You’re welcome.”
Christine took another sip of her coffee, a more normal mouthful this time. She eyed Sam over the rim of the paper cup. “So, you work with Paul?”
Sam’s eyes shot to hers, and a slow smile bloomed across her face. “Sure do.” Her eyes danced.
Guilty heat stained Christine’s cheeks at the other woman’s expression. She’d meant the question to sound innocent, but apparently she was not as sly as she imagined herself.
She ploughed on. “I’m just curious why you’re here. Not that I don’t appreciate it,” she clarified quickly. “But he said he was in this city, and then he didn’t come himself. So, I guess he lives further away…?”
Sam pursed her lips. “He’s being stubborn.” Her gaze flickered over to the smoke alarm. The blush that had subsided on Christine’s cheeks roared back with a vengeance as she remembered the camera. Was Paul listening? She replayed her words so far, wincing.
Sam sighed, oblivious to her turmoil. “Look, I get the feeling he’d kill me if I told you what was going on. Hopefully he’ll tell you himself. Soon.” She glared pointedly at the camera.
“Well, that’s all very mysterious,” Christine joked half-heartedly.
“I wish I could be of more use to you. I dislike intentionally withholding information from people that should have it. Generally, communication should be the first step, not the last one. But I also don’t want to get involved.” Sam’s gaze slid over to where Paul was probably watching them, then back to Christine. “I’d say ‘go easy on him’, but maybe that’s not what he needs.” Her words were musing, almost said to herself.
With that, Sam pushed away from the counter, grabbed the second cup of coffee, and strode out the door with a swift goodbye. Christine was left blinking in her wake, trying to process the conversation that had just occurred.
She’d been suspicious when he’d said he was here in this city, but it seemed it was true. He really didn’t want to see her face to face. Christine rubbed her chest at the sudden ache that sprung there.
The phone rang, startling her out of her thoughts. She trudged towards it, the previous spark of excitement that she’d experienced at the sound now something more akin to disappointment.
“I’m sorry about Sam,” he began in lieu of a greeting.
“I liked her,” Christine said defensively. “She’s honest.” The censure in her voice was clear.
“I just need more time,” was his answer.
“All right, then I’ll give you more time.” Her voice was tight, but she resisted the temptation to slam the receiver down, and instead gently nestled it in its cradle. With one last look in the direction of the smoke alarm, Christine grabbed the coffee, bagel, and laptop off the counter and sat on the bed. She promised herself she wouldn’t look in the direction of the camera for at least an hour.
Instead, she focused on the laptop in front of her. They’d said it was secure, so she quickly checked her emails and replied to a few important ones without giving away anything about her situation. She didn’t want to worry anyone. And, besides, did bad guys still search emails by code words? She didn’t know.
Then, she got to researching, googling Mr. Disik. She found some references to him on a website for a Disik and Sons Construction Co. He was listed as ‘Founder’ on their page introducing the important figures at the
“Excellent. I’ll do some research.”
“And best of all…” Sam produced two coffees, a bagel, and some other assorted items and set them in front of Christine.
Christine made a sound that wasn’t quite human as she picked up the coffee nearest to her and practically inhaled a gulp.
“Thank you,” she breathed.
Sam looked on, amused. “You’re welcome.”
Christine took another sip of her coffee, a more normal mouthful this time. She eyed Sam over the rim of the paper cup. “So, you work with Paul?”
Sam’s eyes shot to hers, and a slow smile bloomed across her face. “Sure do.” Her eyes danced.
Guilty heat stained Christine’s cheeks at the other woman’s expression. She’d meant the question to sound innocent, but apparently she was not as sly as she imagined herself.
She ploughed on. “I’m just curious why you’re here. Not that I don’t appreciate it,” she clarified quickly. “But he said he was in this city, and then he didn’t come himself. So, I guess he lives further away…?”
Sam pursed her lips. “He’s being stubborn.” Her gaze flickered over to the smoke alarm. The blush that had subsided on Christine’s cheeks roared back with a vengeance as she remembered the camera. Was Paul listening? She replayed her words so far, wincing.
Sam sighed, oblivious to her turmoil. “Look, I get the feeling he’d kill me if I told you what was going on. Hopefully he’ll tell you himself. Soon.” She glared pointedly at the camera.
“Well, that’s all very mysterious,” Christine joked half-heartedly.
“I wish I could be of more use to you. I dislike intentionally withholding information from people that should have it. Generally, communication should be the first step, not the last one. But I also don’t want to get involved.” Sam’s gaze slid over to where Paul was probably watching them, then back to Christine. “I’d say ‘go easy on him’, but maybe that’s not what he needs.” Her words were musing, almost said to herself.
With that, Sam pushed away from the counter, grabbed the second cup of coffee, and strode out the door with a swift goodbye. Christine was left blinking in her wake, trying to process the conversation that had just occurred.
She’d been suspicious when he’d said he was here in this city, but it seemed it was true. He really didn’t want to see her face to face. Christine rubbed her chest at the sudden ache that sprung there.
The phone rang, startling her out of her thoughts. She trudged towards it, the previous spark of excitement that she’d experienced at the sound now something more akin to disappointment.
“I’m sorry about Sam,” he began in lieu of a greeting.
“I liked her,” Christine said defensively. “She’s honest.” The censure in her voice was clear.
“I just need more time,” was his answer.
“All right, then I’ll give you more time.” Her voice was tight, but she resisted the temptation to slam the receiver down, and instead gently nestled it in its cradle. With one last look in the direction of the smoke alarm, Christine grabbed the coffee, bagel, and laptop off the counter and sat on the bed. She promised herself she wouldn’t look in the direction of the camera for at least an hour.
Instead, she focused on the laptop in front of her. They’d said it was secure, so she quickly checked her emails and replied to a few important ones without giving away anything about her situation. She didn’t want to worry anyone. And, besides, did bad guys still search emails by code words? She didn’t know.
Then, she got to researching, googling Mr. Disik. She found some references to him on a website for a Disik and Sons Construction Co. He was listed as ‘Founder’ on their page introducing the important figures at the
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