Chapter Seven
Blake
I waited by the window with an open black zippered sweater over my ballistic vest, which had the word Police visible only to those who stood directly in front of me. To everyone else, I was a man sitting at a booth sipping a cup of coffee.
I rolled my wrist to check the time. My informant was twenty-three minutes late, which meant he just cut his fee in half. I didn’t care if he had to come from the outskirts of town. We had worked together long enough for him to know not to be late.
A familiar voice drew my attention and had me scanning the faces in the shop.
“Large coffee, with a dash of cinnamon, please.” I caught sight of a woman in ripped jeans, a white t-shirt, and a tight green jacket. Her hair blocked her face, but I knew who it was.
“Sorry.” Toby, my info
