Dare To Love Again - Jordan Silver Page 0,35
along with another that I didn’t recognize as I got out and made my way inside the building.
I walked into the room to find Silas and three of his men surrounding two men who were seated on plastic crates looking out of place in their hundred dollar suits. “Who’re you? What’s this about?” The older one, who I’m guessing is the one in charge, looked from Silas and his team to Jeremy and I. “I’ll ask the questions.”
“Do you know this woman?” I held out my phone and showed him a picture of Giselle that I’d taken without her knowledge. By process of elimination, I’d come to the conclusion that I wasn’t the one they were following; why would they be? And though I couldn’t think of any reason why anyone would put a tail on my ex-wife, her ass isn’t exactly the most honest, so anything can happen.
I refuse to let what happened between us the night before, and my mother’s planted seeds of doubt waylay me from what I’ve always felt. Sure there were a lot of unanswered questions that made a folly of my assumptions, like why she never touched her bank account. And why she’d left all the expensive shit, I’d given her as gifts behind. Still, I wasn’t quite ready to accept that she was any kind of innocent. Hopefully, these men can give me the answers I need.
“Why do you ask?” His reaction upon seeing the pic already answered one question, now I wanna know why. Since I’d already told him that I would be the one asking the questions, I didn’t bother to answer him. Instead, I just raised my brow with a hard cold stare, which made him squirm. I’m not sure what Silas said to them when he brought them here, but they looked sufficiently spooked to give me an idea.
“My client just asked me to keep tabs on the young lady.”
“Who is your client?”
“I don’t know we’ve never met before.”
“Are you fucking with me?”
“No, I’m serious. I’ve never met my client. My company was hired online through email, and all subsequent transactions have been handled that way.”
“What is his name, this client of yours?”
“Like I said, I don’t know; we’ve never actually met.”
“Really, how do you get paid?”
“The money is usually wired to an offshore account. I just know this guy as a sequence of numbers.”
“If you’ve never met, how do you know it’s a he and not a she?” That question seemed to throw him for a sec, but he regrouped fast enough. I was trying to trip him up if he was lying, and that was the reason for my seemingly simple questions, but from his responses and general demeanor, I got the impression that he wasn’t lying.
“Why would a chick ask us to follow some other chick?” He seemed genuinely perplexed by that, but I could think of a million reasons.
“When did this start?” He gave me a date that coincided to within a week of when she left, which somehow left me with more questions than answers.
“You’ve been following her for two years?”
“Pretty much.”
“And what did you learn?”
“Not much, she never leaves the house, except to go to work in the beginning and then to the doctor’s, after a while, she stopped going to work. It got real boring after that, not that it was a rave before, but she became damn near reclusive.”
“Did anyone ever visit her?”
“Not that we saw, oh, yeah, the client used to visit, but he’d always make us leave on the days when he was coming over.” He smirked and shook his head.
“Secretive asshole. Once I thought of staying around to see who I was dealing with, but he actually sent me a text while I was in the car telling me that he was looking at me and I should leave if I wanted to keep my cushy job. The pay is pretty good, so I did as I was told and never tried that again.”
“So you’re saying you never met this person, don’t have a name. I need all the contact information you have on this person. Email, phone, everything.”
“I don’t have a phone number; it’s always blocked, and trust me, I’ve tried running a trace on the email address, no dice. This guy is buried deep. I get the sense that he has a real hard-on for this girl, though. Then again, who can blame him? She’s one hell of a looker.”
He recoiled at the look I gave