It’s been three weeks of watching Lowell’s every move and it only proceeded to get more boring, so I decided to move up my timeline. Aside from occasionally ordering-in food, nothing in Lowell’s routine has changed. So, armed with the information Mikhail acquired for me, plus everything I learned from tailing this guy – which isn’t much – and the observations I’ve made from monitoring the person tailing me, I’ve decided to strike tonight instead of a week from now. Nothing was going to change between here and then and while in any other case, I wouldn’t speed things up, I know this situation calls for it.
With Crimson already strapped to my ankle holster hidden by my denim jeans, I pull my gun from my glove compartment, check it, slip it behind me in the waistband of my pants and pull my
