Page 13 of Spring L.A.W.
As he turned, she headed back out the door, disappearing into the street with a satisfied smirk.
She didn’t even have to look behind her to know he was following. Some men couldn’t resist a mystery, and this one clearly thought he was Sherlock with a dash of Jason Bourne. Unfortunately for him, Rayna was playing a whole other game.
She kept her pace casual, touristy, even pausing at a street vendor’s cart to examine a rack of sunglasses that had been there since the Bush administration. She picked up a pair with oversized lenses and pink frames shaped like cat ears, slid them on, then looked back.
There he was. Hoodie. Newsboy cap. Trying not to look like he was tailing her, which somehow made it worse. His gait was too even, his hands shoved too purposefully in his pockets, like he’d readHow To Be Inconspicuousand skipped straight to the diagrams.
Her comms crackled again. “Update?” Michael asked.
Rayna didn’t move her lips. “He took the bait. Following me now. Heading east on Fifth. I’m going to loop around to the mural. Meet me there.”
“Copy. We’re in position. Daniel’s contemplating ambush-by-trash-can.”
“Tell him to hold that thought.”
She dropped the sunglasses back on the rack. “Too subtle,” she muttered and turned the corner.
The Einstein mural loomed ahead, somehow more disturbing in daylight. His eyes practically followed her. Beneath their gaze, Michael and Daniel leaned against the brick wall, trying to look like they belonged in this fever dream of a back alley.
Rayna slipped between them. “He’s about ten seconds behind me,” she said, already peeling off her coat. “Let’s see how fast he runs when he knows he’s outnumbered.”
“You want dramatic or efficient?” Michael asked.
“I want both,” Rayna replied. “This outfit is way too cute for subtlety.”
She turned just as their follower rounded the corner, slowing when he spotted her standing there, flanked by two very large, very not-smiley men.
His eyes widened.
Rayna waved again, this time without the mirror. “Hi, stalker.”
The guy’s posture straightened, and he stopped cold, like someone had unplugged his thought mid-sentence.
“Uh oh,” Daniel muttered, cracking his knuckles. “That’s the face of a man who just realized he fucked up.”
The guy bolted.
And Rayna, of course, chased.
“Why do they always run?” she called back, heels clicking fast against the pavement.
Michael sighed. “Because you’re terrifying.”
Daniel was already speeding up to keep pace with her. “Because they’re dumb.”
Rayna smiled. “This is the part I like most.”
He sprinted like his sneakers were on fire, dodging a group of tourists taking selfies in front of a hot dog cart with loaded hot dogs. Rayna followed, weaving through the crowd like she was born to it, which, to be fair, she kind of was. She vaulted a pile of trash bags without losing speed, passed a woman arguing on speakerphone in front of a nail salon, and made eye contact with a dog in a baby stroller. The dog was judging her. Not as severely as a cat would, but she really didn’t care either way.
The perp took a sharp left onto 6th, nearly tripping over a toddler with an ice cream cone. Rayna ducked under a construction scaffold, snatched a caution sign mid-stride, andflung it sideways. It skidded under his feet. He yelped and flailed but stayed upright.
“Slippery when stupid,” she muttered.
Behind her, Michael shouted, “Can I throw something next?”
Daniel yelled, “Focus!”
They passed a mime. An actual mime. White face paint, striped shirt, glass box routine. He locked eyes with Rayna and gave her a silent thumbs-up. She returned it, then passed him.
