All rights reserved
(c) Copyright Mary Faderan and Colin Firth
While Leo and Matthew were having a call to meet for
coffee, Jonathan Moore was on his way to New Haven in a
hired limousine. He shivered in the back of the car despite the
thick camel-hair coat he wore. He tried to warm his hands and
rapped at the window to talk to the chauffeur.
“Yes, Mr. Moore?” The chauffeur inclined his head.
“Is there anything to drink in this car? I need
something to warm me up.”
“The bar is just under the back of the front seat.”
“Good.”
“Table service as well.”
“Excellent.”
Jonathan opened the bar area and saw a small bottle of
brandy. He poured himself a glass and immediately felt better
as the brandy coursed down his throat. He felt a boost of
confidence and leaned back.
The cell in his pocket buzzed, and he took it out.
“Hello? Oh yes. What have you found out? Really? And what
about Lauren? Is she OK? Good. So that other thing you
mentioned. Do you know where they took him? OK. I figured
that. Damn it. Why don’t you . . . are you there? OK, great job.
You keep me posted.” He was about to hang up, but then the
other party said something else. “Did you? OK, so you don’t
think . . . OK, fine. Well, I’ll have to tell you this. Make damn
sure Lauren is safe. Is she? Did you . . . ? OK, good.” Jonathan
hung up, pocketed his cell, and then let the brandy’s effects
lull him to sleep.
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