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THE IRRESPONSIBLES
The envelope is thick and heavy, and I don’t pause to peer inside, just move quickly back to my car. I slide the envelope under the passenger seat, start the engine, and get out of there. As I pull back on to the highway to start toward home, I wonder why Gray didn’t search the van. He knew that Simon Briggs was looking for me, that Detective Harrison was all over me, but he left everything there for the police to find. It doesn’t make any sense.
My cell phone rings. It’s Detective Harrison again. This time I answer.
“What do you want, Detective? Is it money? Just tell me what you need to leave me alone and it’s yours.”
“Yesterday it was money. Today I’m not so sure.”
I’m driving too fast. I change lanes carelessly, and the Toyota behind me honks in protest. I lift a hand.
“Cell phones kill,” says the detective. “Did you know that you’re just as im
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