Page 63 of Bitter Truth
The teller tucks the cashier’s check into an envelope and passes it, along with a stack of printouts, across the counter.
“No, thank you.”
“Then I hope you have a great rest of your day.”
“Thanks. You too.”
Grabbing Jake’s hand, I lead him toward the exit, forcing myself to keep my pace slow and measured. Doing my best to keep his face angled away from the tattooed man. I glance over my shoulder to find him off the phone but still watching me. Our eyes meet as he says something to his coworker, then disappears from view.
A moment later, the door to the back opens. He’s following us. Or, at least, he’s going to try. As soon as we’ve left the building, I quicken my steps, tugging Jake in the direction opposite the one we parked.
“Where are we going?”
“Detour,” I say, pulling him into a shop just as theman emerges from the bank. He jogs around the side, toward the parking lot. We need to kill some time. It won’t take him long to figure out his mistake, and I don’t want to be on the street when he does—we’ll be too easy to spot.
“How many?” a voice from behind me asks.
I jump. Turn to find a hostess watching us expectantly. Shoot a questioning look at Jake, who shrugs.
“Two.”
She leads us to a nearby table, much too close to the glass windows, where we could easily be spotted from outside.
“Actually, do you have anything maybe a little more… private?” I ask.
“We’re on our honeymoon,” Jake adds.
The annoyed expression on her face eases as she looks between us.
“Sure.”
A minute later, we’re tucked into a booth at the very back of the restaurant. As soon as she’s gone, he asks, “Now, do you want to tell me what this is really all about?”
I don’t. So I answer his question with one of my own. “Do you want to wait until we get back to the car to look?”
Instantly, the menu in his hand is forgotten about. “No. How much is it?”
I slide the envelope across the table to him. My stomach clenches at his expression as he looks at the cashier’s check inside.
“What?”
A crease forms between his brows. His head shakes slowly from side to side. Slowly, he withdraws the slipof paper and lays it on the table, turning it so I can see. It’s for a hundred and forty-nine dollars and seventeen cents.
It could be that Janine’s out of money. Or that murder for hire is a lot cheaper than you’d expect. But I suspect the truth is that this is just the tip of the iceberg. And like the Titanic, sometimes it’s what you can’t see that sinks you.
CHAPTER 33
My stomach twists and turns. Just speaking about food as I place my order makes me feel like I might be sick. I don’t have an appetite anymore. It’s hard to believe that I’ll ever be hungry again. But I know I need to keep my strength up.
I smile at the server before she scurries away to place our order, obviously eager to get away from what she must have sensed was a tense situation. Given what Jake told the hostess about us being on our honeymoon, I can only imagine what they might be whispering about us. Luckily, I don’t have to think about it for long.
As soon as she’s gone, Jake leans across the table, keeping his voice low as he says, “That whole conversation in the parking lot last night. Now it makes sense. You knew.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Cassie, don’t give me that.”
“I didn’t know,” I repeat.
