Page 52 of The Familiar Stranger

I swung my head in all directions.

Still, no one was paying me any mind.

But I wasn’t about to leave.

I was being watched; I was sure of it.

It had to behim.

I took a sip of coffee and withdrew one of the wrapped breakfast sandwiches from the bag.

I unwrapped the sandwich.

On top of the biscuit, there was a note.

Surf’s up, buttercup

Come prepared.

Alone, or someone else dies.

Would be a shame, wouldn’t it?

Another friend you couldn’t save.

You or them.

Decide.

After all, this is a life-or-death situation.

Or a death-and-death situation.

I’ll be waiting.

He had been here.

Maybe he was still here.

Was he a server or a cook, part of the hotel staff?

Somehow, he’d slid into the right position so he could leave me this note on my food order. He was nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

The time had come for me to stop him.

And stop him, I would.

I turned toward the atrium. The same woman was still at the podium, taking care of hungry guests.

“I accept the challenge,” I said, standing.

I took the cane and the note and trashed the food and the coffees. Not knowing whether he’d tampered with our order, I couldn’t take a chance.

I walked toward the hotel entrance, pivoting for a moment when a thought came to mind:

What if the note was meant to lure me away?

What if today Maddie was his intended target?