With trembling fingers, Cecilia dialed the number that had become seared into her memory. Each ring heightened the knot of dread coiling in her stomach, but she knew there was no turning back now.
"Cecilia, darling," the man's silky voice oozed through the line, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Steeling herself, Cecilia forced her voice to remain steady. "I have the money."
A low chuckle reverberated in her ear. "Excellent. I knew you'd come through for me."
"Where do you want to meet?" Cecilia demanded, cutting straight to the point.
"Eager, are we?" the man taunted. "Very well, let's make it...the Rusty Spoon Café on Fourth Street. Ten o'clock sharp tomorrow morning."
