She went back inside the cabin and poured another glass of wine.
She saw the notebooks on the table, next to the casino bag with the poker chips and stack of cash she had photographed.
This is absolutely insane.
It’s impossible to physically get those books back.
And even if by some miracle I did give them to those bastards, there is no question that they would kill me. Either right there on the spot, or eventually . . .
She rocked the wineglass stem, slowly spinning the merlot around the glass as she thought, then took a big swallow.
But . . .
—
She quickly went to her computer and got back online.
Signing in to the text messaging website, she found the conversation with the one she considered the Eastern European.
She rapidly typed in the new bubble:
MEET AT LUCKY STARS CASINO AT 10 TONIGHT.
She then quickly clicked SEND—and stared at the screen.
The clock in the upper corner showed: 7:14.
Come on, c’mon . . .
It took three minutes for him to reply:
267-555-9100
CASINO IS NOT SATISFACTORY.
I wonder why? Too many people?
Too bad. Then all the more reason to do it there.
My rules . . .
She sent:
I GET TO SELECT THE PLACE. AND THE CASINO IS QUITE SATISFACTORY.
BUT NOT INSIDE.
ON THE BOARDWALK ALONG THE RIVER IS A PIER. WHERE THE CASINO HAS A TOUR BOAT.
She waited, sipping her wine, her eyes darting to the clock as the minutes ticked off: 7:16 . . . 7:17.
Why the hell no reply?
I don’t have much time . . .
She then typed:
OKAY. THE NOTEBOOKS WILL BE IN THE CASINO BAG THAT WAS IN THE PHOTO I SENT YOU EARLIER. I WILL TIE ON ITS HANDLE ONE OF THOSE SMALL PLASTIC BAGS FROM THE DOG PARK THAT’S THERE AT THE BOARDWALK.