Page 22 of Dangerous Liaisons

The waitress nodded as Jesse pushed open the door. She strolled nonchalantly past the diner window, then hurried along the wall to the end of the building. She stopped and looked back. Twenty feet of gravel and a battered chain-link fence divided the diner’s property from a dense thicket. Two cars were parked along the fence. Probably employees’. Jesse scanned the side of the building. Past the closed kitchen door, about halfway down the length of the building rested a large trash bin next to a window where the men’s room should be. She hurried past the door and trash bin and heard Cole’s voice.

“This is my mission,” he said. “Get out.”

Jesse crept forward. Loose gravel crunched under her shoes. She halted.

“Cool your jets,” a male voice responded. “She looked at me when I came in, then went back to talking to you. She doesn’t know me.”

Jesse’s heart skipped a beat. The diner was a setup?

“What do you want?” Cole demanded.

“Hey, we’re looking out for you, man.”

“I don’t like being watched,” Cole said.

“That’s the way it works,” the man replied.

“That’s not the way it works anymore.”

The man laughed. “You’re not in charge.”

“Green Leader doesn’t own me,” Cole said.

A door squeaked and Jesse realized Cole was leaving. She started to turn, but stopped when the man said, “Hold on there. I’ll make it worth your while.” The door squeaked again, and Jesse held her breath, praying Cole had closed the door while still inside the men’s room. If he glanced back and saw she wasn’t there he’d be out the door in a flash.

The man gave a low laugh. “Get me Lanton.”

Jesse tensed in the few seconds of silence before the man spoke again.

“It’s like you said.” He paused, then, “Take this number down. Seven, nine, three, six, two, two, seven. Catatonic, the secure code. Got it.”

Jesse committed the number to memory.

“Okay,” the man said and clicked the phone closed. “That’s the account at the International Bank of the Caymans, a hundred thousand for your trouble.”

Jesse’s heart fell. Cole is Lanton’s mole. She had started to believe his story.

“What do you want?” Cole asked.

“Get a confession.” He paused, then added, “by any means necessary.”

The bathroom door creaked as Cole said, “Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”

Jesse choked back tears. Cole hadn’t led Lanton to her by accident. He worked for Green Leader. Had Cole truly been Green Team Leader, had he been there in Colombia, was he the sole survivor as he claimed? I didn’t matter. She whirled and sprinted to the fence. The pain of stitches ripping shot up her leg. She stubbed her toe on a rock, stumbled, but regained her balance. The fence sat six feet away. She lunged, grabbed the chain link, and vaulted over the fence. She dropped to the other side and dove into the foliage as Cole rounded the corner of the diner.

“Jess!” he shouted.

She crouched in the bushes as he jogged toward her. Too late to run, he would see and hear her if she moved. Fool, fool, fool, she cursed herself. Lanton, and Cole, had played her like a fine fiddle.

Cole continued around the corner of the building and skidded to a halt near the bathroom window.

He spun in frustration, echoing her words, “Jesse, you little fool!”