As the Moon Climbs

The plan hadn’t worked, but that was not unexpected. She walked with the crowd on the sidewalk, purposefully, not quickly, glancing into store windows as if browsing, actually checking for the reflections of her pursuers.

Luckily, she wasn’t tall enough to stand out. And it was rush hour. And her accomplice was too dead to tell anyone about her.

Ah, James. Beautiful, charismatic, stupid James. His type never understood how to blend in. Such a shame. She might even miss him.

A hand on her arm startled her. “Miss?”

She looked up at a young policeman in a navy uniform. His face was red with exertion or the heat. Reflexively, she smiled.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Did you drop this?” He held up a manila envelope.

She looked at it. “I don’t think—” She stopped when she saw her name on the cover.

“You’re right, it is mine,” she said quickly. “Thank you so much, I would never have noticed.”

He tipped his hat and grinned, leaving her to wonder how they had found her and what they intended to do now that they had.

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