“I’m not asking you to do anything illegal. I’m asking you to find out who he is. Full name, background, known associates, financial connections. Anything that pulls enough weight that I can clear my name.”
“And what you do with that information is your business.”
“And my lawyer’s,” I reply. “Yes.”
She looks at me for another moment. Then she writes something in the journal. “Gallery opening. Five months ago. City… which city?”
I tell her. She writes it down.
“Amber O’Connor,” she says. “Spelled?”
I spell it.
“The bank?”
“First Commerce. The branch on…” I give her the full address.
She writes all of it with the neat, unhurried handwriting of someone who has been writing things down for decades and has never needed to rush.
“You said coercive,” she says, without looking up. “You think he had something over her?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what?”
“A debt,” I reply. “She saidold debt, new arrangement.That’s all I have.”
“Financial debt or the other kind?” she says.
“Unknown.”
“Mm.” She writes something. The orange cat, apparently having decided I’m not a threat or at least not an interesting one, repositions itself on the cushion and goes back to sleep. “You’ve been on the news recently.”
I go still.
She looks up. “I watch the regional news every evening. Have for forty years. It’s professionally useful.” She pauses. “You’ve changed your hair color and style. Quite flattering, really.” She writes something else. “Do you have any reason to believe this Daniel is tracking you?”
“I don’t think so. He got what he wanted.”
“You’d be surprised. He might be looking for you in order to tie up that loose thread. Wouldn’t want you talking to law enforcement and putting holes in theframed part of the plan.” She caps her pen. “Either way, you should look after yourself. He might be running a parallel search with better information.”
“He knows Amber,” I state sadly. This time, I do flinch. “Amber knows my patterns.”
“Then he knows how you move. And he’s adjusting accordingly.”
“Which means Sweetwater Valley isn’t as hidden as I thought.”
“No,” she says. “But you’ve lasted this long, which means either he’s not looking or he’s watching rather than acting.” She observes me over her spectacles. “The question is why he’d watch rather than act.”
I think about this.
“He needs me to keep running,” I say slowly. “If I’m caught, the case gets examined. If I’m caught and there’s a partner the bank is also looking for…”
“The frame collapses,” she finishes. “Or gets complicated enough to be a problem.” She nods. “He wants you running and invisible. Not caught. Not stationary.”
“Stationary is a problem for him,” I say.
“Stationary means you have time to build a defense,” she says. “Running means you’re surviving and nothing else.” She picks up her tea. “You’ve been stationary for a few days now.”
