Page 87 of High Treason
“A man walked in right after we opened. Wanted to know about the short blonde. Said you and he’d been talking. When I told him you weren’t here, he asked for your number. I told him I couldn’t give it without your permission. Wanted to know when you’d be working.Told him you were on vacation. He said I was lying. Wanted to know how to find you. Again, I refused. He said to tell you he wasn’t stupid. You would pay. I called the police, but he left before they arrived.”
“I’m sure it was nothing. Maybe an admirer.”
“Doubt it.”
“Take a deep breath. Don’t worry about the guy unless he comes back. Had you seen him before?”
“No. Hope never again. He did write his number on a napkin, but I was nervous and forgot to give it to the police.”
The café camera would have his pic, but she needed the number. “Would you hold on to it for me?”
“Sure. Don’t you think I should give it to the police?”
“Not unless he returns. Why not stick it in the safe?”
“Good idea. Are you in town?”
“In and out.”
“I’m sorry to bother you. Afraid for your safety. The guy was freaky.”
“I’m fine, but I have no clue about him. You gave his description to the police?”
“Down to his bushy eyebrows.”
“An old man?”
“Our age, maybe. Dark-skinned. Medium height. I’ll let you go. Take care, sweet friend. Praying for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
Monica texted Jeff for the police report. She also wanted the camera footage inside Coffee Gone Dark. Was it just a coffee drinker who had a crush on a blonde? Or could the wrong person have figured out her cover? She’d be a fool to discount it, especially after Parvin Shah’s death.
Fully awake, Monica needed to sleep for a little while or she’d be worthless the rest of the day. She forced her mind into submission.
Her cell phone rang. Kord.
“How about a stroll in the garden?” he said. “I’m too wired to think about sleeping.”
“Looks like we’ll both survive on coffee today.”
“Meet you in the kitchen.”
After slipping into jeans and a sweatshirt, and tucking her weapon into her waistband along with a scarf in case they ran into bodyguards, she walked to the lower level and found Kord downing a bottle of water. They stepped out into the chilly early morning air. For once it wasn’t raining.
“Want to race to the gate?” she said.
“Nope. I want to clear my head, not lose to a girl.”
“So sad. Kord, the enemy is no longer ahead of us. They’re working on old information that ended with Shah’s death.”
“With all HPD, the FBI, and the CIA are doing, why haven’t we nailed this?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I asked Ali to reroute the limos for every excursion. And to arrange new bulletproof vehicles for each time we leave here. He’s sending the FBI any security footage of Prince Omar in Riyadh since the announcement was made of his trip to Houston.”
“What about his plans to lease oil reserves?”
He nodded. “I’ll add to it and include all those who were present when discussions were held. Saudi security is tight, so they should have it ready shortly.”
“I want to be walking the streets,” she said. “We’re both hands-on types.”
