Chapter Nineteen
Thief
When I saw the flag flying from the window of Sibyl’s motel room, my first instinct was that it was a trap. Still, it might have dawned on her that I still held considerable leverage over her, and that—properly motivated—I might still be her one chance for salvation. That was what I had intended all along. So, I made preparations to contact her. As usual, I took extraordinary precautions.
From a storage locker on the other side of town, I got a prepaid cell phone. The charge was only at four bars, but this call wasn’t going to be long. For good measure, though, I rode a mass-transit bus to another city about ten miles away, and walked into the busiest public concourse where there were hundreds of people chatting on their cells. Then dialed the number for Sibyl’s p
