*Alex*

I stuffed the phone in the breast pocket of my blazer. My belly was knotted with worry at the thought of Chloe being worried, either for my sake or her own. I had no recourse but to leave her hanging.

Because I finally, at long last, had Stanley Smith in my sights. The scruffy-looking bastard sat in a booth at the greasy spoon diner across the street from his motel room. He stuffed his face with spongy, probably prefab pancakes while flirting with a waitress ...