Finishing his coffee, the detective saw his opportunity. He grabbed the waitress’s arm and said, “Come with me. We don’t have much time.”
“What is this about?” she asked as he ushered her hastily through the kitchen, ignoring the questioning eyes of the other staff.
“We don’t have much time,” the detective repeated, dragging her out the back door. “Get in.”
One glance at the black SUV waiting behind the café and she knew why he was here. “Fine,” the waitress said sharply as she slid into the empty backseat.
The detective climbed in next to her and looked straight ahead as the chauffeur sped away.
“Can we at least stop by my apartment? I have some things I need to grab,” pressed the waitress. The man in the driver’s seat looked up at the rearview mirror, but his sunglasses made it impossible to tell where.
“No,” the detective replied immediately. The driver looked back at the road ahead. “All your belongings are waiting for you.”
“And I’m guessing you can’t tell me where that is,” sighed the waitress, watching the city blocks pass by, blurs of light and color. I was really starting to like this place, she thought.
“We’ll be there soon. Everything you’ll need is in here,” said the detective, handing her a silver briefcase.
The car turned suddenly, approaching a dimly lit building in the distance. Here we go again, she told herself, taking a deep breath.
A tall man opened her door. “Good evening, Agent Hunter.”