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* * *
Back at Pinewood, Charles received another message from Avery:
Louise Phillips niece of Mason Chapman in London. Works for small P.I. firm in NYC.
Charles stared at the text. “Didn’t Zoe mention someone named Mason Chapman in London?”
“Ay. What about ’im?” Fergus asked.
Charles showed him the message.
“Sounds a bit dodgy, doesn’t it?” Fergus scowled.
“Indeed. I’m going to check with Izzie.” Charles hit the speed dial button. “Iz, what do you know about that bloke Mason Chapman?”
“He was a romantic interest for Zoe when she was in London.”
“That’s a problem,” Charles said with dismay.
“Why? What’s the problem?” Izzie’s tone held concern.
“It seems he is related to the mystery woman who’s following Zoe. It’s his niece and she works for a small private investigator firm.”
Izzie was crestfallen. And here she had encouraged Zoe to pursue the relationship. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s a conundrum, certainly. I’ll try to get more info.”
“Thanks, Charles.” Izzie ended the call with an ache in the pit of her stomach.
How? And why?
* * *
After a few cosmos, Kyle was loosey-goosey. “Oh, I forgot to mention, a friend of yours stopped by the office on Friday, but you had already left.”
“What friend?” Zoe knew the list was rather short.
“Huh. Come to think of it, she didn’t leave her name. I told her you were going to D.C. and would be back in the office on Monday. She smiled and said, ‘Taking the Acela?’ ” Kyle patted his lips with a cocktail napkin. “I said, ‘For sure, is there any other way to travel?’ I asked if she wanted to leave a message but she said she was going to text you.”
Zoe’s blood went cold. “She didn’t leave her name?”
“No. Sorry. She seemed really friendly. She had a slight accent. British, I think. Didn’t she text you?”
Zoe struggled to maintain her cool. “No. No, she didn’t. I wonder who it was.”
“She was average looking. About your height and maybe early twenties in age.”
“By any chance did you tell her what train I would be on?”
“Uh, maybe.” Kyle was straining to remember. “Sorry, Zoe.”
“No problem,” Zoe lied. Again. She needed to message Charles as quickly as possible. She waited a few more minutes and then checked her watch. “I better get going before the cats wreck the apartment.” She pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and set it on the table. “See you tomorrow.” She tried to move normally, but the urge to rush took over and she dashed out of the bar. She strained her neck to find Sasha, then heard the ding of a bicycle bell. Zoe gave a big sigh, thankful she was being watched over—while she was also being watched by someone else.
Once the cab pulled in front of her building, she hurried out and blew through the front door. “Hey, Carlton,” she said as she whizzed by.
“Good evening, Ms. Danfield. Have a good night,” he called out as she bounded into the elevator.
Upstairs, she disengaged the alarm, entered her apartment, shut the door behind her, and then reset the alarm.
