LITMIR.BIZ

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to school. “What about tests?”

      The student’s smile was condescendingly smug. “I’ve got that covered, too.” He lifted his chin, a lofty look in his eyes. “Why all the questions?”

      “Just curious.” Because that didn’t seem to satisfy his contact, Adam added, “When I grow up, I want to be just like you,” allowing only a drop of sarcasm to leak through.

      Initially, the senior seemed to take the words as a compliment, but the frown that soon unfurled told Adam that the arrogant drug dealer realized he was being ridiculed.

      “I can have you wiped off the face of the earth with a snap of my fingers,” Sederholm threatened him haughtily, snapping his fingers to illustrate.

      Obviously, the little twerp had probably come close to OD’ing on classic gangster movies, most likely starting with Cagney and Bogart. For two cents, he would have loved to squash the snotty senior like a bug, but he knew bigger things were at stake here than just mollifying his temper—no matter how good it might feel at the time. Like it or not—and he didn’t—he needed this jerk to get hooked up to the head importer whose identity was still unknown to him.

      “Before you snap again,” Adam told him, lightly catching hold of Sederholm’s wrist, “I’d like to place an order for my people.”

      “Business before pleasure,” the cocky student declared with an obliging nod of his head. Adam released his hand, wishing he could be wringing Sederholm’s neck instead. “You know,” Sederholm said, the smile on his lips as genuine as the smile on a cobra, “one of these days, you’re going to push my buttons too hard.”

      I’m counting on it, kid, Adam thought just before he gave the college senior a list of just how much he was looking to score.

      Sederholm seemed properly impressed. “That’s almost twice as much as you bought last time.”

      Adam made certain to appear unfazed. “Word gets around. You’ve got a good product.”

      Sederholm nodded, preening. “Yeah, it’s damn good all right.” And then he frowned slightly. “But if you want that much of it, you might have to wait a little,” he warned.

      “If this is too much for you to handle, I can always take my business—”

      “I didn’t say it was too much for me,” Sederholm cut in angrily. “It’s just going to take a little longer to get it all together, that’s all.” Pausing, he was apparently trying to think, but there were times, like now, when the process appeared difficult for him. Undoubtedly, he’d been sampling “the product” again. “When do you need the stuff by?”

      Adam eyed the student. “I was thinking now.”

      Sederholm was taken aback. And then he laughed. It was a nasty sound. “Right, like I carry that kind of stash on me. What are you, crazy?”

      Again, Adam shrugged nonchalantly. “Got a lot of antsy customers.”

      Sederholm shut his eyes and scrubbed his hand over his face. “How’s tomorrow sound?”

      “Not as good as today,” Adam replied without hesitation, “but it’ll do. Where and when?”

      “I’ll call you,” he said cavalierly.

      Adam resisted the urge to pat Sederholm on the head, the way he might have to a dim-witted toady who’d tried too hard. He didn’t want to put the kid off until the sting went down, and right now, the timetable was still unclear.

      So instead, he smiled complacently and said, “You do that.”

      Adam waited until he was back in his car, driving north on University Road and away from the forty-five-year-old college campus before he put in a call to his handler via his Bluetooth.

      “Looks like the plan’s working,” he told the man. “Sederholm’s going to his source sometime between today and tomorrow.”

      “The big fish?” he heard Hugh ask.

      He only wished. “Right now, it sounds like the medium fish. But it’s only a matter of time. We keep doing business with him and we place an order big enough, medium fish is going to have to get in contact with big fish,” Adam theorized.

      “And then we’ll reel them in.” He heard Hugh allow himself a sliver of optimism. “Meanwhile, you know what to do.”

      “Yeah.” He knew what to do. Continue leading his double life—and deceiving Eve. The longer he stayed undercover like this, the greater the odds were that someone was going to get hurt. One way or another, it seemed inevitable.

      “Something wrong?” He and Hugh had been together long enough for him to know that though it didn’t sound it, Hugh was concerned.

      “I’m going to need a little time away from the job today,” Adam told his handler.

      “All right,” Hugh allowed cautiously. There was leeway within their framework. “How little and is it going to get in the way of anything?”

      “An hour, maybe less. Around one,” Adam added. “And no, it’s not going to get in the way of anything.” Just my conscience, he said silently. “I’ve got someone covering for me at the bookstore.” He didn’t bother adding that the woman, somewhere in her sixties, was a dynamo who had reorganized all his shelves the first week she was hired. “You’re going to have to get someone to keep tabs on Sederholm. The kid drives a 2009 silver Lexus SC 430 convertible. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem spotting him wherever he goes.”

      Adam heard Hugh whistle. “Wish my mommy and daddy gave me a sixty-five-thousand-dollar car.”

      “More like sixty-seven point six,” Adam corrected. Handing over the keys to that kind of vehicle to an immature brat seemed unfathomable to him.

      “I can get Chesterfield to follow him,” Hugh told him. “Chesterfield likes surveillance work.”

      Surveillance work was something he really hated. Though he considered himself tenacious, sitting in a car for hours on end drove him up a wall. He could literally feel life slipping through his fingers on a stakeout. He was a man who valued action, not stagnation.

      “Different strokes for different folks, I guess,” Adam commented. “More power to him.”

      “That’s what makes the world go around,” Hugh agreed. The next moment, the line went dead. Adam closed his cell phone. He was accustomed to Hugh’s calls. The handler wasn’t one to stand on ceremony. When he was done, he was done.

      One o’clock had Adam hurrying down the corridor of the maternity ward. He carried a bouquet of red roses in one hand and a teddy bear sporting a pink bow and a pink tutu in the other. Neither, he knew, was exactly very original, but the offerings were the best he could do on short notice. Undertaking yet another life, bringing him to a grand total of three, was running him ragged.

      Eve didn’t even know his real last name. He was still lying to her and calling it the truth. How was she going to handle that? he thought uneasily. How was she going to feel when she found out that all of this, the secondhand bookstore, the so-called life of a drug dealer, all of that was just a setup, a sham, a means to an end?

      Why was he even wondering about that, he upbraided himself. He would be out of her life before that happened, not settling in for good.

      If a part of him yearned for love and family, well, he would have to bank it down. He knew what he was signing on for when he volunteered for this kind of work. There wasn’t going to be a happy ending for him after two hours, when the credits rolled. This was real life and it was gritty.

      When he reached Eve’s room, he heard voices coming from inside. Specifically, a male voice. Was that her doctor?

      The moment he opened the door, Adam knew the small, trim, older man, dressed in tan slacks and a dark blue sports jacket, was not a doctor. Doctors were given to scrubs and lab coats, not

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