He nods toward the speaker set in the ceiling of the trolley, and I notice for the first time the tiny little red light hiding behind the mesh material. “You can tell a lot about a person by the way they act when they are left waiting too long.”
I focus my attention back on him. “I guess I passed.”
His smirk appears for just a second then it’s gone. “With flying colors, Mrs. Smith.”
It was probably dumb but I couldn’t resist using the same fake name my boss does. I found Devon on the internet a year ago when I was looking for some tech I couldn’t get on my own that I needed for a job. This is the first time we’re meeting in person, which is why he made me jump through hoops before showing his face.
I appreciate the level of paranoia though.
“What is it you require, Mrs. Smith?”
This is where it gets a little tricky. “I’m not exactly sure yet. I have a job in Hilton Head but won’t get full instructions until I get there and therefore won’t know my needs. Once I do, I’ll need it quick, so I’m asking that you be on hand to offer goods and support as needed.”
He looks out of the window and doesn’t speak. It’s a big ask, which is why I wanted to do it in person rather than our usual channels of online communication.
Since the night I was almost arrested at the country club, I’ve understood the value of having people in place to ensure someone will protect me if things go wrong. The help Mr. Smith sends will take care of me as long as it doesn’t hurt him, though. I need to have someone who’s looking out for me, and only me. It’s time I start building my own team.
Finally, Devon turns back to me. “What if you require something I can’t put my hands on at such short notice?”
“Then I’m hoping you can work the problem with me and offer another solution.”
He’s looking out the window again while the trolley stops to load and unload passengers.
“It sounds like you are expecting a problem,” he says.
I nod, even though he’s not looking at me. “I am. Call it a gut instinct. The job is being set up by someone who doesn’t understand the players as well as I do. I’m trying to get ahead of the moment when I’m presented with my instructions and determine the plan won’t work.”
“This is not how I normally do things,” he says.
“I understand. I will make it worth your time. Also, if you ever need help from me, I will be there.”
He gets what I’m asking for—a partnership. We’ve had a solid working relationship the last year; he knows I pay well and I know he delivers.
“We are in a trial phase, Mrs. Smith. The first hint of a problem and I’m gone.”
I nod as I pass him a slip of paper from my bag that includes all pertinent information for the weekend. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Just as the trolley stops, I ask one last question before I get off. “How did I pass with flying colors?”
“You sat here like you had all the time in the world when I knew that wasn’t the case. And that tells me everything I need to know.”
* * *
Andrew Marshall and the rest of the team have arrived in Hilton Head. Once I get Andrew settled in his suite, I check into my much smaller room, four floors below. I’ve just kicked off my shoes and unzipped my bag when there is a quick knock on the door.
A guy in the hotel’s uniform smiles at me when I open the door. I look down at the domed covered plate that’s sitting on the pushcart in front of him.
“Wrong room. I didn’t order room service,” I say, and go to close the door.
The guy pushes the cart toward the door just enough to keep it from closing. “Matt sends this with his compliments.” His voice is low and deep.
This stops me cold. I’ve never met anyone else who works for Matt. Doing a quick scan, this guy looks like he’s in his midthirties. His hair is short, streaked with gray around the temples, and he’s only a few inches taller than me. The name tag on his uniform says George. His face and body are plain enough to make him easily forgettable. But the way his eyes never leave me ensures I won’t.
I pull the door open farther and motion for him to come inside. He parks the cart in the center of the room then leaves without another word. Lifting the domed cover reveals a piece of carrot cake and an envelope similar to what I would typically find in the mailbox.
It’s unsettling that they know carrot cake is my favorite.
I take the cake and the envelope to the small table so I can dig in while I see what’s in store for the weekend.