“Hey,” the text said. “I’m running a little late. I should be at Wok of Ages in about 10-15.”

It wasn’t the fact that I didn’t know the number that worried me; I get the occasional wrong text. It’s no big deal.

But I was actually already at Wok of Ages for their Saturday lunch special, and there was no way anyone could have known that–I had only just decided to come in and sit down on a whim, five minutes after the text had arrived with a bleep that I’d ignored.

That was worrisome, but it could easily have been a coincidence. Wok of Ages is a popular joint. No, what really concerned me was the next text:

“What we discussed is in the trunk.”

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