For 5 days, nothing happened. I went to work, came home, went to the gym, followed the routine Jolene had so carefully documented in her notes. Every morning, I expected to see a familiar face watching me from across the street. Every evening, I wondered if tonight would be the night they made their move.
The waiting was torture.
Agent Martinez had moved into the house across from mine, posing as a divorced accountant who worked from home. Agent Thompson’s cable repair van became a permanent fixture on my street, complete with orange cones and a work permit that would hold up to casual inspection. And Agent Walsh shadowed me everywhere, always staying just out of sight, but close enough to intervene if needed.
On the sixth day, things started to change.
I was leaving for work when I noticed a new car parked three houses down from mine, a gray sedan with tinted windows. The kind of vehicle that was designed to be forgettable.
As I drove past it on my way to the office, I couldn’t see the driver clearly, but something about the silhouette seemed familiar.
When I got to work, I called Detective Chen.
“There’s a gray sedan on my street,” I told her. “License plate Echo Delta 7492.”
I heard her typing on her computer.
“We’re running it now. Stay calm, Mr. Hartwell. If it’s them, we’re ready.”
But I wasn’t calm.
After 6 days of nothing, the sudden appearance of watchers felt like the beginning of the end. They were here, and soon this nightmare would be over one way or another.
The gray sedan was gone when I came home from work, but I knew they’d been watching, learning my patterns all over again, making sure I wasn’t under protection, planning their approach.
That night, Detective Chen called with confirmation.
“The sedan is registered to a company that doesn’t exist. Fake registration, fake insurance, probably stolen plates. It’s them.”
“What happens now?”
“We wait for them to make their move. They won’t do anything tonight. They’ll want to watch you for at least a few more days to make sure you’re alone. But Mr. Hartwell, when they do act, it’ll be fast. They can’t afford to let this drag out.”
I barely slept that night. And when I did, I dreamed about the hunting trip I’d never taken. In the dream, I was cleaning my rifle when it went off, and Marcus was there shaking his head sadly as he called 911 to report the tragic accident. In the dream, I could see Jolene waiting in the car, already planning how to spend my life insurance money.
The second day of surveillance was worse than the first. The gray sedan was back, this time with a different license plate, and I spotted it following me to work at a discreet distance. When I went to the gym after work, it was there in the parking lot. When I stopped for groceries, it followed me to the store.
They weren’t even trying to be subtle anymore. They wanted me to know I was being watched, wanted me to feel scared and isolated. It was psychological warfare designed to make me panic and do something stupid.
But I had advantages they didn’t know about.
Every time I spotted their surveillance, I pressed the small button on my keychain that signaled my location to the federal agents watching over me. Every route I took was being monitored by people who were far better at this game than Marcus and Jolene.
On the third day, the pattern changed again.
I was at work when my secretary, Linda, knocked on my office door.
“Mr. Hartwell, there’s a woman here to see you. She says she’s your wife.”
My blood went cold.
“What does she look like?”
Linda looked confused by the question.
“Blonde hair, green eyes, very pretty. She seems upset about something.”
Jolene. She was here at my workplace, taking an enormous risk by showing her face in public.
Either she was desperate or this was part of some larger plan I couldn’t see yet.
“Tell her I’ll be right out,” I said, then immediately pressed the panic button Detective Chen had given me.
I walked to the lobby on unsteady legs, my heart pounding so hard I was sure everyone could hear it.
And there she was, sitting in one of the leather chairs near the reception desk, looking exactly like the woman I’d fallen in love with 5 years ago.
But now I knew what to look for. The way her eyes scanned the room constantly, cataloging exits and potential threats. The way her purse was positioned for easy access to whatever she kept inside it. The calculated quality of her tears, designed for maximum emotional impact.
“Edwin,” she said, standing up as I approached. “Thank God. I’ve been so worried about you.”
I kept my distance, staying near the reception desk where Linda could see and hear everything.
“What do you want, Jolene?”
“I want to explain. I want to make this right.”
She took a step toward me, and I took a step back.
“Can we talk privately, please?”
“No. Anything you have to say, you can say here.”
Her expression flickered, and for just a moment, I saw frustration beneath the mask of concern.
“Edwin, you don’t understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. There are people involved in this who are very dangerous. If you don’t drop the police investigation, they’re going to hurt you.”
I almost laughed at the audacity of it. She was threatening me while pretending to warn me about threats from other people.
“What people?”
“Marcus isn’t who you think he is. He’s not just my brother. He works for some very bad people. And when this job went wrong, they blamed him. Now they want to clean up the mess. And that includes anyone who can identify him.”
It was a clever story. If I hadn’t seen the documents in our file cabinet, if I didn’t know the truth about their operation, I might have believed it.
Jolene wasn’t just a victim caught up in her brother’s crimes. She was a concerned wife trying to protect her husband from dangerous criminals.
“So you’re saying Marcus threatened me?”
“I’m saying Marcus answers to people who don’t leave loose ends. And right now, Edwin, you’re a very dangerous loose end.”
She was still trying to manipulate me even now. Still trying to make me believe that she was on my side, that we could work together to solve this problem.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.
“Drop the investigation. Tell the police you were mistaken. That it was all a misunderstanding. Take the money you still have and disappear for a while. I can help you start over somewhere safe.”
“And you? What happens to you in this scenario?”
“I disappear too. We both start over separately. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”
I stared at her. This woman who had shared my bed for 5 years while planning my murder, and felt nothing but cold disgust.
“You’re still lying to me.”
Her mask slipped again just for a second, and I saw the calculation in her eyes.
“Edwin, please. I know you don’t trust me, but I’m trying to save your life.”
“Why should I believe anything you say?”
“Because I love you.”
The words came out with perfect sincerity. And if I hadn’t known better, I might have believed them.