First message
Morning. Outside a glass office building in Manhattan, Michael followed Crystal out onto the sidewalk.
He did not look directly at the woman leaning against the wall across the street, but he felt her watching him.
He always did.
Automatically, Michael lifted his chin slightly and turned his head. The woman was looking at him.
He gave her the smallest smile. Two fingers lifted from his side in a silent greeting.
A black sedan pulled up to the curb.
Crystal caught his arm immediately.
“Where exactly are you looking, Michael?” she asked, far too politely. “We have dinner with the Thompsons.”
Her eyes moved to the woman by the wall for half a second, dismissive, cold, like she was a piece of furniture.
“Get in the car. We’ll be back tomorrow at ten and you can take that picture then, Michael.”
Her hand tightened around his forearm.
Michael smiled automatically and slid into the back seat after her.
Just before the door closed, he looked at the woman one last time.
Then the car pulled away and disappeared into traffic.