The Man She Married

At seven-forty-five, Morris turned into a well lit apartment complex and parked outside of Building D, the last in a row of cream colored buildings sporting natural wood trim and wrought iron balconies. He got out of the car and disappeared inside. The women parked at Building C and turned off the headlights.

"Now what do we do?" Julie asked.

"We wait. I've got a feeling this is just a pit stop. I don't see him driving all this way just to sleep in a different bed."

On of the second floor, the lights came on. At eight-twenty-two, Morris left the building and walked over to the carport on the opposite side of the driveway. He had changed into a dark suit and a wide-brimmed hat, which he wore pulled low over his face, but even so, Kelly knew it was him. Nothing could disguise the lopsided walk he attributed to an old football injury. He pulled a tarp off a cherry red convertible and stored it in the trunk. Lovingly, he ran his hand down the side of the car, then unlocked the driver's side door.

"You follow him. I'm going to check out his apartment." Kelly reached to open the door, but Julie stopped her.

"You can't do that. It's dangerous. What happens if he has someone else living there with him?"

"Then I'll play dumb and tell them I was looking for Building C. Listen, I'll be careful and I have my cell phone with me. You call me when he heads back this way, and I'll get out and meet you at that convenience store." Kelly pointed out the store barely visible through the hedges. "Then we take what we know to Franco."