Risk Read Free Page B

winding route that you’re taking. They would have simply shot down Collins. It’s much more direct. We’re being followed. Any idea why?”
    He snorted. “No. If anyone’s following us, then perhaps they’re following you. You’re the one with the risky job and looking to purchase kidnap insurance.”
    â€œI’m in your car,” she said.
    â€œSo that means they saw you get in.”
    He was having a hard time believing the conversation. Her application had given him no hint that she suffered from paranoia, though now that he thought about it, it was entirely possible that she was affected with post-traumatic stress disorder.
    â€œI’m an analyst for an insurance company. The most dangerous thing that I do all day is compute the statistical probability of claim loss versus premium gain.”
    â€œHave you insured anyone dangerous lately?”
    â€œYou,” he said. His voice was a little strident, he noted, but her insistence that they were being followed made him edgy.
    â€œYou just turned me down.”
    â€œWe’re not being followed.” His voice was flat. Now all he wanted was to get to South Beach and off-load her. The whole conversation was too weird.
    â€œTurn right at the next intersection,” she said.
    â€œThat’s not the way to your house.”
    â€œI’m proving to you that we’re being followed. Turn right. If they do also, then that’s turn number five. No way is that a coincidence.”
    â€œFine,” he said. He flicked on the turn signal and turned right. After a moment he glanced into the rearview mirror. The Porsche appeared.
    Now he was becoming nervous. His hands began to sweat. The last thing he needed was to be caught up in her chaotic life.
    â€œI’ll drive to the police station.”
    She gave him another patient look, which sent a flash of annoyance through him.
    â€œI wouldn’t recommend that,” she said.
    Of course you wouldn’t, because you’re used to this level of craziness.
    He had the thought but didn’t say it out loud. Instead he said, “Why not? I realize that you’ve been through kidnappings and hijacking and God knows what else, but let me give you a tip—most of us law-abiding citizens go to the police when we’re in trouble.” He realized that he sounded like a pompous asshole, but his hands were sweating on the wheel and he was getting more agitated every minute.
    â€œIf you go to the police,” she said, “they’ll leave, yes, but then just return, and the next time you may not see them.”
    â€œI won’t see them because they’re following you, not me.” He turned onto Alton and continued south. After a second the Porsche appeared.
    â€œFine. Pull over,” she said. “I’ll get out. I don’t need you to lead them directly to my house.”
    He shot her a glance. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
    Now she looked aggravated. “I’ll be okay. Just pull over.”
    He flipped on the turn signal and pulled to the corner. She opened the door and leaned into him.
    â€œThank you for an interesting evening. Good luck with the police.”
    She angled out of the car, closed the door, and headed down a side street at a rapid pace. He watched her turn the next corner, then he pulled back into traffic, but kept flicking his eyes to the rearview mirror. The Porsche stayed with him while he drove to the police station. As he double-parked in front of the building, a man in the passenger seat stared at him as the Porsche drove past. He was heavyset, with a receding hairline. Ryan stepped off the curb and glanced at the license. The car had a dealer plate, and he noted the number.
    Gotcha, he thought.
    H ALF AN HOUR later Ryan was back in his car and frustrated. The frazzled and already exhausted police politely informed him that they wouldn’t waste their time writing a report