*Alex*
I stuffed the phone in the breast pocket of my blazer. My belly was knotted with worry at the thought of Chloe being worried, either for my sake or her own. I had no recourse but to leave her hanging.
Because I finally, at long last, had Stanley Smith in my sights. The scruffy-looking bastard sat in a booth at the greasy spoon diner across the street from his motel room. He stuffed his face with spongy, probably prefab pancakes while flirting with a waitress who was a decade older than him and also clearly not interested.
I'd nearly lost him in the alleyways earlier. For a moment I'd thought he had figured out I was following him. His path grew irregular, illogical, like he didn't know where he was going any more than I did.
But then, he'd slowed his pace and crossed the street
