A Pryce Worth Paying - 17

“It’s procedure - maybe Riley was old school,” he told her, still suspicious of her response and what it was that she found amusing.

“Oh yes, he was definitely old school.“ She agreed with Brayden, smiling when she recalled Riley reminiscing about the nineteen-eighties. Movie tickets were two dollars and seventy-five cents, gasoline was only a dollar and nine cents a gallon and Michael Jackson’s Thriller album made millions. She was young during that time but she remembered it well. Riley always made those tales sound so exciting. interesting - she was certainly going to miss him and their engaging conversations.

Brayden wasn’t paying complete attention to her at that moment. Again, he was mulling over the man that had been parked across the street from Ferretti’s, watching them as they were leaving the store. Brayden got a clear look at him. He memorized the car’s licence plate number as they drove off but decided he wasn’t going to mention it to Aliziana until he confirmed the man’s identity. It could have been coincidental or possibly someone that knew her or her employees. He would look into it later and then brooch the subject with her.

As they drove down the one-way streets of Manhattan, he took the longer routes, watching his mirrors and making certain that they weren’t be tailed. No one had been following them. He decided that It was probably nothing other than his usual self being cautious and suspicious. His methodical train of thought was suddenly disturbed like a jack-hammer, when the sound of loud salsa music had come from the back seat and he turned around curiously.




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