Chapter Six
I stared at Paul for a few seconds, then blinked. “Um, what happened to not using your phone because they might be able to trace it back through one of my contacts?”
“Would they have any way of knowing you’ve frequented this spa?”
He actually had a point there. Information about my clients could be easily gleaned from the laptop back at my apartment, since I kept fairly extensive records for tax purposes. However, anything personal, whether pertaining to my dentist, my hairstylist, or Ula, the genius at Lotus who tended to my brows, stayed on my phone. So unless the feds — or whoever they were — had been tailing me for weeks, I was pretty certain they had no idea who did my hair, or my toes, or my teeth cleanings. And since we’d already tentatively established that no on
