31
Peter
I don’t have to wait long for Esguerra’s answer. His email is in my inbox by the time I get back to my hotel.
Tonight at seven, the message reads. Lucas will pick you up.
Seven is only a half hour away, so I swiftly notify my guys and get ready.
Kent shows up at my hotel room promptly at seven. I’m not at all surprised that he knows where I’m staying; I knew I was being tailed from the second I left the restaurant.
Kent’s face might as well be hewn from granite. “No weapons,” he says, and I lift my arms, letting him frisk me from head to toe.
He finds the knife in my boot, the two knives in my pockets, and the small revolver tucked into the inner pocket of my leather jacket. However, he doesn’t notice the razor blade in the hem of my jeans or the coil of wire sewn into my j
