in my driveway, and I go straight to my car under the pretense of running errands.
Errands to run. People to follow. Same thing.
I pull out of my drive behind her, but as we move from the side streets and onto the main road, I make a right turn and wait a few beats before flipping a bitch, and pulling back onto the same road, leaving a few cars between us. If she thinks I’m trusting her enough to return all my inheritance of her own accord, she’s got another thing coming.
Besides, I’m bored. Zane was home for four days before he had to get on a flight bound for the Midwest.
Finally, Olivia’s car pulls into a neighborhood with impressive gardens and lawns. I turn off my headlights before following her in, sure to keep enough distance to eliminate suspicion.
When she pulls into a cul-de-sac, I linger at the corner until her car slips into a driveway.
I flip my headlights on and leave the neighborhood, heading toward the country just beyond her McMansion community. The tranquility of dusk surrounds me as I drive for twenty minutes, then turn around and head back.
When I reach her neighborhood again, I creep in slowly and pull along the curb across from her house, half hidden by a large tree in her front yard. Once I make sure that nobody is watching, I extract my phone and take several pictures of her home, doing my best to capture the sides and front entrance.
As I’m taking a photo, a call from a New York area code flashes across the screen. I ignore it. I’m not answering a telemarketing call. It stops buzzing as the call goes to voicemail. Before I can resume taking photos, another call comes in. The same number.
My muscles tighten. My number is private. The only people who call me from New York are Ricardo, Eddy, and my buyer, Liam. As soon as it goes to voicemail a second time, I turn the phone off and drop it into my console.
I take a moment to inspect the houses surrounding Olivia’s. It’s just as important to know what the neighbors’ routines are.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up as a car pulls up behind me with only its running lights on, its engine idling.
My sympathetic system in full alert, I pull down my visor and its light illuminates my head but not my face. I pretend I’m pulling myself together before starting the car.
It must be a coincidence. A fucking creepy one. But I know that fortuitous events should not be overlooked.
I turn on my car and move around the cul-de-sac. As my headlights gleam off the car, I try to make out the person sitting in the driver's seat. As I get close enough, headlights come at me, and a sportscar whips into Olivia’s drive as I pass.
I’ve missed my opportunity, but that doesn’t mean that they’ve missed theirs.
I take the long way home. Zane isn’t there, but I’m not bringing my problems anywhere he sleeps.