Two days after John Dalton’s visit, Blair arrived at work and found himself deluged with messages from the government agent. He tried to convince himself that he wasn’t bothered by them. But he was. And he wasn’t alone. His secretary, Andrea Victor, came into his office and threw her hands in the air. “I can’t take it anymore,” she said. “Mr. Dalton won’t leave me alone.”
Blair asked her to have a seat.
Andrea had been with him since his arrival in New York. In her late thirties, the woman had a fragile appearance, ultra thin with brown hair and eyes, yet she was so efficient, he couldn’t see himself doing without her.
“Tell me what he said to you,” he requested.
“He threatened to have me arrested.”
That caught his attention. “For doing what?” he asked.
“Obstructing justice.”
“Because you wouldn’t put his call through to me?”
“Yes. That’s what he said.”
Blair was amazed that the agent would go this far. He stood and came around his desk. He put his hand out and helped his secretary to her feet. “Andrea, I want you to take the rest of the day off,” he said. “Go shopping. Go to a movie. Do anything. Only don’t come back here until tomorrow.”
That evening, when he arrived home, he found a dozen more voice messages from Dalton, all of which he ignored. He slept in fits and starts, expecting the man to come pounding on his door at any moment.
He thought of giving in. But there was nothing to give in to. Jeremy wasn’t about to change his mind. Going back to Israel would be a waste of time.