Chapter 3 - The Ghost of the North SideMina ducked into the alcove of a closed florist shop, her heart hammering against her ribs. She cracked the wax seal and tipped the envelope.
Two thick stacks of banded hundred-dollar bills tumbled into her palm, held together by a handwritten note on heavy cardstock:
A proper retainer for silence and good coffee. – C.
She counted with trembling fingers. Exactly ten thousand dollars. More money than she had seen at one time in her entire life.
Hook.
She looked up, scanning the street. Traffic blurred past—yellow cabs, delivery trucks, commuters rushing to their morning cubicles. Across the street, parked casually beside a fire hydrant, was a matte-black Mercedes sedan with tinted windows. The driver’s side mirror flickered as it adjusted.
They had been watching her since she left the hospital. Or perhaps since she left the café.
Mina’s first instinct was panic—to throw the money in a dumpster and run. But then she thought of Toby’s pale face, the flashing red lights of the dialysis machine, and Dr. Vance’s cold clinical voice: Without the upfront deposit...
She clutched the envelope to her chest, turned on her heel, and marched straight across the street toward the Mercedes.
Before she could reach the handle, the rear door swung open silently from the inside.
May you like
A voice spoke from the shadows of the backseat, rich, raspy, and unmistakably dangerous.
“Get in, Mina. You’re letting the air conditioning out.”
