Chapter 32: Wraith Book Club
In the end, she said yes.
It was tricky to get all three of us in the same place at the same time, in large part because Mickey and I were being followed by the PA, and we didn't want them to know that we knew each other, or put them on Tanya's trail.
There was a library I used to visit often. It was quiet, mostly empty, and it had private study rooms for people working with especially old, valuable books. I told Tanya to go there after work and named a book she needed to request to get an isolated room. Given her profession, she could do it without any problem. I needed her to be there before me, and leave after -- that way my entourage would never have a chance to notice her and place us together.
Mickey was more tricky. Timing or not, the Protectors would undoubtedly notice if their marks spent an hour together. They would literally bump into each other on the street, without even the need for someone... Amanda? Ainsley? Allie?... to crosscheck their reports. Luckily, he mostly worked from home, which meant that it was easy for him to disappear in the middle of the day without anyone noticing. Of course, he couldn't jump from the roof before dark, but it was winter, and nights were longer than ever.
I saw Tanya leave the office at 6:30 PM. She didn't look my way, didn't show any sign that today was out of the ordinary. Walking calmly, she entered the parking garage and drove off five minutes later. I finished my shift, said bye to everyone, and walked to the bus stop some half an hour after that.
The man with thin lips was following me. He walked past the bus stop and disappeared behind the corner at the same time as the bus arrived. A few minutes later I noticed an old sedan following us, two people inside. The Protectors used multiple cars and switched plates frequently, but their resources weren't endless, and in a month I had learned to recognize all their vehicles.
They were good, but I was... not better. Just not what they thought I was. And that gave me an upper hand.
Finally, I entered the library. I always loved libraries. Their silence, their rituals, their logic. In a sense, libraries were akin to temples. And to me, whom the Church deemed not worthy of a soul or God's love, they were more sacred than an actual temple.
The librarian -- an old woman with short gray hair and a genuine, broad smile -- recognized me.
'Matthew! It's good to see you, young man. I haven't seen you here in a long while.'
'Good evening, Mrs. Blezinski. Yes, I was very busy lately.'