Recollection Of Questionable Events

Sneaky Shadow Man.

(6) Sneaky Shadow Man:

Unknown

 

I gazed apathetically at the streets that were supposed to be deserted. A reliable source had informed me that most residents were in bed before seven, but for some twisted reason people swarmed the streets tonight.

My research couldn’t be wrong, which meant something strange must be going on. I just couldn’t quite pinpoint the source.

Although an inconvenience, the multitude of people didn’t frighten me. The plan could still work, but it needed to happen quickly.

The trade had already been postponed twice by Ivan’s technical issues, and I couldn’t afford to let Robert’s company operate for another day. Every single moment my competition stayed open, I lost money I didn’t have.

Rolling my shoulders, I released some of the tension and refocused on finishing my delicious tamales. Although the plan needed some editing, good food shouldn’t go to waste. I chewed slowly, savoring each bite and by the time I cleaned the plate, I knew how the switch would happen.

“Do you need anything else sir?” asked a young peppy waitress.  

“Just the bill,” I said with my face turned away.

I’d spent the whole night carefully avoiding direct eye contact, hoping that I wouldn’t be recognized. Though apparently I didn’t need to worry, people in the area didn’t seem to watch the evening news, and no one had noticed me.

But in my fervor to keep my face hidden, I’d lost sight of Ivan as he’d escorted his overly animated date out of the restaurant. His peppy date made his normally cold demeanor appear warmer, a clever move on his part.

I repeatedly searched for his familiar face among all the white, brown-haired males. He had one of those common faces, good for blending in crowds. An asset, but now I had no way of singling him out.

The next time I worked with the man, I’d insist he wear something more recognizable…like a red feather boa.

It took me a few more minutes, but I finally spotted him, leaning on the restaurant wall. He stood only a few feet from my indoor window seat, partly hidden by shadows.

I watched as he approached several strangers, starting conversations with a few people. Only a trained eye would notice how his gaze lingered on their coats…how he waited excitingly for their answers.

I quickly collected my things, when a banshee screech startled me into dropping my coat. From the comfort of my quiet little table inside Panchero’s, I could see that complete chaos had ensued outside.

Some lunatic had started a fight with a cop, and dozens of people had their phones out, capturing the hallmark moment.  Ivan must have been scared by all the commotion as well, because he ran past me in the opposite direction.

With no time to analyze how the perfect plan had gone so wrong, I rushed out. I needed to find a way to fix this and quickly.

A pissed off waitress followed me all the way out, screaming at me because I forgot to pay. I refused to care about her problems, I had my own.

My fingers frantically dialed a familiar number, this new plan had to work.

“Darrell, no time to chit-chat. I need you to reroute a bus near Panchero’s.”

“How about the 60?”

“Whatever,” I answered agitated.

“Glendale in 10 minutes,” Darrell said before he slammed the phone down.

* * * * * *

Somehow Ivan had beaten me to the bus, and had taken a seat near the front. I walked leisurely past him, but he didn’t recognize me as the trader. In the rush to get out of the restaurant, I’d forgotten my coat.

But with the new plan in mind, I left a small backpack near the front on an empty chair. My body jittered in excitement…this would actually work better than the original plan. I just had to text him the new code.

A short woman sat where Ivan had been. The bastard must off left after I got on the bus, taking my bag of money with him. That double-crossing son of…

What would make anyone think that they could get away with betraying me? I imagined different methods for torture, when I noticed the person sitting directly in front of Ivan’s chair.

A woman Ivan had been speaking to right before the lunatic messed up my plan, a woman wearing a black trench coat.

Time for plan C.