Spring City
I stand over the stove, stirring dinner, the aroma of spices wafting around me, and I can’t help but turn my attention to Geneva, who’s perched at the end of the island, her focus locked on her laptop screen. ‘How much is she asking for?’ I ask her.
Geneva looks up, her expression one of disbelief. ‘Twenty thousand. Can you believe it?’
I frown, taken aback. ‘That’s a lot of money.’
‘She’s out of her mind. Who would pay that much for just a piece of information?’ she scoffs, her eyes rolling.
I keep stirring in the sauce, my mind racing. ‘Maybe she thinks we’re loaded and is trying to exploit us. Should we go ahead with this or drop it?’
‘We need that information, Elena. It might be crucial, but we can’t just hand over that amount,’ she reasons.
I nod, understanding. ‘We’ll have to negotiate then. See if she’ll come down.’
Anxiety grips me as I consider the next step. ‘What if she takes the money and gives us nothing in return?’
Geneva’s face is etched with concern. ‘Then we’ll get the police involved.’
‘But how will we track her down?’ I ask, worried about the practicalities.
‘We’ll find a way. Everything leaves a trail these days,’ she assures me, her confidence somewhat reassuring.
I wipe my forehead, feeling the heat from the stove.
‘And she claims it’s something vital for Aisling.”
‘Yes, I’ve been pondering over it all day. What could it possibly be?’ Geneva asks, her brow furrowed.
‘Could someone be plotting against her?’ I wonder aloud, the thought unsettling me.
‘That’s exactly what we need to figure out,’ Geneva says.
A knot forms in my stomach as I voice a haunting thought. ‘Could Duke be cheating on her?’
Geneva pauses, her expression turning contemplative. ‘It’s not entirely out of the realm of possibility.’
‘We need to coax out a hint before we pay. I can’t bear the thought of shelling out that kind of cash for something that won’t even make our hearts skip a beat,’ I say, the idea unsettling.
‘Exactly,’ Geneva agrees.
I sample the sauce simmering on the stove, its flavors exploding in my mouth, a brief respite from our heavy conversation. ‘For twenty grand, whatever she knows better be groundbreaking.’
‘Exactly,’ she says, her voice laced with skepticism.
‘Try to get some sort of clue from her,’ I suggest.
Geneva exhales deeply. ‘She’s supposed to call tomorrow at 7:45.’
‘Can you trace her number, just in case we need to follow up?’ I ask, hoping for a backup plan.
‘She’s covering her tracks. The number she used was untraceable,’ she informs me.
A chill runs down my spine. ‘That’s unsettling.’
‘What do you think we should do? Get the police involved? What if this is just a ploy to siphon money from us? It smells like a scam,’ I say, the fear evident in my voice.
‘We wait,’ Geneva suggests, her tone cautious.
I shake my head, the anxiety mounting. ‘I don’t know about that.’
‘I’ll keep an eye on the situation for now,’ she decides.
‘We should warn her. If she tries to swindle us, we go to the police,’ I insist, needing some semblance of control in this uncertain scenario.
Geneva ponders my suggestion, her gaze clouded with uncertainty. ‘But what if that scares her off? What if this information is actually crucial?’
“I agree.”
