My first instinct was fear.
Then I remembered his voice.
You believed everything else.
I wanted him to believe one more thing.
I wanted him to believe I was still afraid.
At eleven forty-five, I called the number he had left.
“I have the money,” I said.
“Transfer it.”
“My bank blocked the payment. They said the amount was too large. I withdrew cash.”
There was a pause.
“Where are you?”
“At the hotel.”
He told me to walk to an underground parking garage two streets away and place the cash inside the trunk of a gray car.
Instead of money, the police filled a bank envelope with paper and a tracking device.
A microphone was hidden beneath the collar of my coat.
When I entered the garage, my knees almost gave way.
Marcus stood beside the gray car.
The charming man from the night before was gone.
His face was cold.
