STANLEY'S POV

I looked up at the wall clock, it was a few minutes past 7 but it didn't feel like it. I was savouring the bitter taste of my too-dark cup of coffee, staring blankly at the skyline from the window in my living room, when my private line sprang to life.

"Talk," I answered, my voice rough.

"You've got eyes on you," my investigator said. "And not the usual kind. It looks like Someone's high profile is asking questions about your movements, your recent phone calls, money ...