It wasn’t particularly heavy and she couldn’t resist shaking it a bit. Something shifted inside it but only slightly. She was pretty sure it was from KRG but what on earth were they sending her so mysteriously? No one had said a word about a package yesterday.
Back at her apartment, she sliced the tape with a box cutter and flipped open the flaps. Nestled inside the carton were the two extra pairs of shoes and the designer clothing she’d given back to Leland at the pool, wrapped in tissue paper.
She pulled a Balenciaga sneaker out of its box and sat on the sofa with it cradled in her hands. Was this a farewell gift? Something expensive to say Thanks for the sex?
Or maybe it was just too much trouble for the concierge to return the clothes to the stores where they’d come from.
No, she was being mean because she was so hurt. He’d wanted her to have these, but he knew her well enough not to argue with her when she handed them back. So he’d found another way to give them to her. It made it all the worse that Leland understood her well enough to slip in his gift with such subtlety.
She put the shoe down on the coffee table and rummaged around in the carton in the hope that there was a note of some kind. She hadn’t seen one but maybe it had fallen between the shoeboxes. Instead of an envelope, her questing fingers found a small box hidden among the folds of one pair of jeans.
Prying open the lid, she tipped a cell phone onto her palm. The square black device wasn’t any brand she recognized. A yellow sticky note covered the screen and read: “Use private cell number to unlock.”
She frowned, wondering what the heck that meant. Then understanding hit her. Leland had a private cell number that he’d given to her. She turned the phone on and keyed in the number.
The screen lit up with a text message.
I knew you would figure out the unlock code.
A blip of pleasure pinged in her chest that he thought she was smart enough to catch on to his cryptic note.
This phone is encrypted so we can communicate without security concerns. It locks down after 5 seconds of inactivity so keep touching the screen. Text me as soon as you can.
The pleasure was no longer a blip. It was a full-on tidal wave of joy that she would be in contact with Leland once again. That was bad.
He hadn’t exactly written her a love note, had he? She searched for some clue as to whether he wanted her to communicate about the arms dealing or on a more personal level, but there was no subtext in his message that she could find. Only his request to contact him soon, which could mean anything or nothing.
The package arrived, obviously. Thanks for the clothes, even though you were supposed to return them.
Now he could try to discern the subtext. A new message pinged in almost immediately. Evidently he wasn’t sweating over hidden meanings.
The clothes will look better on you than me. Are you all right?
She chuckled without being able to stop herself. That disarming humor of his got her every time. But how was she supposed to respond to his question? She didn’t know the answer.
Back to skimming the surface.
No one has pulled a gun on me yet. One note of interest . . . there must be a new security camera somewhere in the basement. Vicky sort of alluded to our visit down there. Which is weird because the reason the trainers go down there was the previous lack of security cameras.
This time there was a substantial pause before he responded.
Not good. I’ve told Tully. Can you talk now? I want to know what else Vicky said.
She glanced at her watch. If she skipped the smoothie she could hear Leland’s voice pouring into her ear. She tapped in his private cell number.
“Dawn! Thank God! I hate not being there with you. Talk to me.” He sounded more worried than distraught but maybe she was just being sensitive.
“I’m at my apartment now, which I assume means that Tully’s guard dog is somewhere around.” She had tried to spot her shadow this morning without success, and the package had distracted her from the bodyguard on her way home.
“Her report says no suspicious activity but that makes me feel only marginally better. Why was Vicky discussing our tryst with you?”
She tried