We were about a quarter mile away from her home, and Alex began to speed up, saying, "Whoever runs to the door first. The loser treats guests to dinner."
I gave her a considerable lead, and then turned on the afterburner. I call it the end of the photo. Anyway, I have to pay for dinner.
I took a shower, put on my black tweed pants and a lavender shirt, and sat down to eat a plate of sausages and eggs. I will get used to it. I took a sip of orange juice and suddenly got an idea. "You never asked me why I was sitting in the car outside your house."
"Oh, I thought you were monitoring my house in case Tristen Greer wanted to kill me."
I cleared my throat, trying to say something, but couldn't say anything. Did I walk to the door of Alex's house during my nap and tell her all this
She asked: "Are you going to follow me all day?"
"Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"No. Actually, I arranged the schedule for you while you were in the shower."
Really thoughtful. She handed me a piece of paper and I opened it. Alex's schedule is very simple, and it is PG level. On the other hand, her night register is the sensational NC-17. Remember she is a professional writer. The following are some of the signs and vocabulary I encountered in her "overnight" column: wheelbarrow, sex, overeating, pollination, zenith, flora and fauna, fleshy and habeas corpus.
I followed Alex’s jeep to the Waterville Tribune Building in downtown Waterville. It was a small white clapboard building, squeezed between a 99-cent store and a Hallmark store. Alex walked to my car and asked if she could borrow Baxter. Don't point the gun at my head.
She waved Baxter's paw at me and disappeared into the building. For the next eight hours, I didn't plan to sit there at all, and then drove away. When I was on the highway, I called Caitlin and said, "We need to talk."
We met in a cafe near the Federal Building. I was sitting on a black chair next to a black wire table behind a fake French cafe, and Caitlin took a seat opposite me. Caitlin sat down with a calm, composed look. She was wearing a black skirt and a tan sweater, and she looked like a librarian off work. Should I know something about this? Does she want to tell me something? Do I have an overdue book
Everyone knows that breaking up is like Band-Aid, but I'm not sure what it is. It's more like you only stayed for one night and I don't know how to continue.
Caitlin and I drank our drinks in silence. Halfway through the drink, I noticed that Caitlin had an unprecedented allergy to caramel macchiato. I don't like making women cry. I swear I don't know.
I put down my coffee and said, "I'm sorry, Caitlin. I don't know what I was thinking... we shouldn't... I mean... you know mine. mean."
For some reason, she didn't seem to understand what I meant. She nodded and found a tissue in her handbag. After saying a few words, she said: "Thomas, I love you, but if you don’t love me, you have to be honest with yourself. If I don’t think like this, it’s too selfish. So, if you don’t love me , Tell me so that I can continue my life."
I told her and she left.
After eating breakfast, breaking up, and breaking up, I almost broke down. I walked hurriedly, thought about it quickly, and left as soon as possible. Next stop, Lacey Gallery. I decided not to tell anyone about Caitlin and my death. As far as I know, the fact that Lacey is not wise, there is the death of anything.
I opened the corridor door and saw Lacey’s horn sounded, "Connor said you and Caitlin are together again. Great."
Plan A ends here.
I took plan b: deny, deny, deny. I denied it, and Lacey did not refute, "You are the worst liar. Don't tell me you hooked up with her and then broke up again. Do it again."
Plan three: blame, blame, blame. I blamed her, Lacey shook her head, "Yes, I should believe Caitlin forcing you to sleep with her."
Although I didn't say that much, I was actually pointed at by a gun once. When she showed me around, I hid this matter in my heart and told her the truth. When I left, I gave her a bear hug and told her that I wanted her to keep a distance from Caleb at all times. She blinked at me and said, "This shouldn't be a problem."
I was walking in the parking lot outside when I suddenly saw Connor getting out of his Camaro. He came over and I asked him: "What's the matter?"
"Lacy said she needs to talk."
Ah oh. Will this be the first garbage dump between brothers and sisters in the history of the world? Now I understand why Lacey said "keep a distance with Caleb at all times". It shouldn't be a problem. "
I gave him 10 minutes until he started singing Dodd’s Eye Dance. I quickly changed the subject, "So what are your plans tonight?"
"As we speak, the agents are driving over from the Boston office. We should be able to arrange a man on all seven women."
"I thought they came yesterday."
"We decided not to go last night because this was not an intense date."
Connor is a great fit for these FBI guys. I have doubts about what happened last night, but at least I am prepared. Of course, I slept for almost 7 hours, but that is not the point. I said, "That's it. Protect the public. Don't let him get too close to attack."
He paused for too long, and I kicked his calf. "tell me."
He rubbed his calf and said, "We use Caitlin as bait."
"what do you?"
"We think that if she is allowed to monitor the house alone, she will appear vulnerable."
I laughed. "So you are watching Caitlin stalking."
He nodded.
The reason why these idiots never solve the case is because they never respect their own objections. They judged Tristen Greer as incompetent, because his IQ is likely to be higher than the combined IQ of their small work group.
I patted Connor on the back and said, "Good luck." If Caitlin was on a desert island, in a bubble, wearing a chao belt, then she couldn't be safer.
I arrived at the building on time at 4 pm. There are still two hours to pass. I put the second disk of "Pray" in. Thirty minutes later, I developed two of the three migraine symptoms and made two phone calls for information.
I removed the key from the lighter, and when I was in the Waterville Tribune building, I decided that I might as well go to the editor's office and scare her. I opened the door and walked into a bustling newsroom. There is no front desk. There is no secretary. Only twenty people are using laptops, trying to meet the deadline.
I patted a young man about twenty-five years old on the shoulder and asked where his boss's office is. He took a look at me and said, "You are Thomas Prescott."
It's no use trying to get anything from this guy. I said in my best London accent: "Knopes. But if you see him, tell him General Van Fogel is looking for him."
For some reason, he looked confused, and I walked to the other person in his row, and he led me to a large office in the back right corner. I walked through the maze of desks without touching Alex, nor seeing an empty desk and a paperweight in the shape of a pug. Alex's jeep was parked where she left before. She might be in the lounge, or in the printing area, or she and Baxter went to Belize on a red-eye flight. Lucky guy.
I came to an office, which reminded me of my former captain when I was in the Jǐng police station in Seattle. It suddenly occurred to me how similar the news editorial department and the Jǐng inspection department are. The most obvious thing is the number of criminals present. I guess that office is the office of Alex’s female boss, because the editor-in-chief there has been shaved off.
I knocked on the glass, the white blinds inside swayed, and a hollow female voice shouted, "Come in."
I quickly listed what I wanted to say to this woman. I want to make sure that Tristen Greer’s rhetoric does not appear in the newspapers again. Those newspapers are our allies, not his. This kind of pornographic news, this kind of grandstanding behavior must be stopped. Although to be honest, every piece of paper so far has not been exaggerated and accurate. But fortunately, we are not honest, we are just making excuses. differ greatly.
I opened the door, walked two steps into the simple office, and looked at the woman behind the desk. She is charming, and I think I have seen her somewhere. She pointed to the chair at the table and said, "Please sit down."
I sat down, crossed my left leg on my right leg, and said, "So you are the queen bee."
Alex smiled, "I bought the newspaper."
I responded with her smile, "Of course."
When Alex walked out of the building, the sun was shining on the mountain to the west.
I followed Alex home, parked the car, and called Lacey. She said that the Prescott-Dodds era had reached the end of pain, and that she and Caleb were going to Connor's house to bring her things back to his house. I told her to be careful, and then hung up.
Gleason called, and he repeated the information Connor had told me. He said he heard that I had a few students working for me, so he asked which women I was monitoring. I told him the name, and we blessed each other. We are on different teams, but we still play in the same league. He asked me if I wanted to talk to Todd, and we all laughed from the bottom of our hearts. (To be continued) (End of this chapter)