Free Counterfeit Conspiracies by Ritter Ames Page B

skyscrapers giving the old inner-City business district a run for its title to financial dominance. A number of the old warehouses were saved and converted to flats. People made their way to work, play and live there, and I was grateful for all the bodies to hide us.
    We made our way out into the meager sunshine, and I took in the view. The docks survived the area rehab, but now chiefly functioned as marinas for water sport enthusiasts instead of larger crafts.
    "The occasional ship does periodically make landfall here at the old docks," Jeremy's friend responded when I asked. "Most traffic, however, has moved downriver to the Surrey Commercial Docks."
    My actual target after dark. I filed his information away as we steered poor Jeremy toward the taxi line.
    "Address?" the cabbie asked when we piled in the back.
    I turned to the guys.
    "After you," Jeremy's friend responded.
    Oh, wonderful. A glance at the skyline offered a save. "Canary Wharf. And you, Jeremy?"
    He nodded, still glowering over his foot. I felt sorry for him at first, but I couldn't help but think this was reaching overly dramatic proportions.
    "Ah, give the martyr bit a rest, mate," his friend chided. Then he told the cabbie, "That's where we're headed, too."
    The black cab merged into traffic, and I watched as we left Weasel and Werewolf behind on the pavement, both with cell phones at an ear. In one way, I felt kind of bad for their employer, as they really should have tried some method of pursuit. Yeah, that feeling lasted for about a nanosecond.
    Figured it was time to make idle chitchat, so I stuck out a friendly hand. "Hi, I'm Laurel."
    Yes, I gave my real name. In my business, one never knew when a chance acquaintance, especially one in an expensive suit, would later become a business ally. And trying to explain away an unnecessary earlier pseudonym too often gets complicated.
    "Dylan." The friend, a young Clooney lookalike with Bluetooth, shook my hand. "And you have, of course, already connected with our dear Jeremy.
    "I really am sorry." I offered my most apologetic smile. It was the least I could do since I really had injured him on purpose—even if it was an act of self-defense. My hero.
    Jeremy grimaced at me.
    Call me heartless, but enough was enough. It wasn't like I broke his foot. At least I hoped not.
    I turned to the more congenial, and more attractive, Dylan, even if I do dislike the Bluetooth silhouette. "This area has really changed. I'd be thinking about trading in my job in the financial district and calling this place both home and work."
    "That's our plan eventually," Dylan said. Jeremy grunted, the perpetual frown still on his face. Dylan addressed the cabbie, "Could you pull in here, please?"
    The cab slowed and stopped at the curb. I craned my head, looking through all the windows as I pretended to search for an imaginary friend, while I actually searched for any sign of my two adversaries. "Guess I'm early."
    Before my seatmates had a chance to move, I passed enough pound notes to the driver, opened my door, and stepped into the street. Then I quickly ran around the cab and onto the sidewalk, waving goodbye as I hurriedly departed.
    "Laurel, wait!"
    Dylan came up behind me. "Since you have a bit of time, why not join me for a drink, coffee, anything. Pub's right there."
    He pointed at a trendy place just down the block. I had to kill time somehow, so nodded and took the arm he offered.
    The look inside the pub was contemporary, but the lighting was the universal dim everyone looks for in a place to drink and relax. Dylan answered his Bluetooth again as we ordered our pints.
    I can't help it. Those Bluetooth thingies annoy me, and I don't understand why guys love the devices. It's my problem, I know, because I never feel emotionally secure in those situations. I'm always afraid a guy is talking to me when he's looking my direction and doesn't have a phone to his ear, so I respond and ultimately get a frown and one of those