CHAPTER 86

CHAPTER 86
Tyler’s POV

I got to the café fifteen minutes early. Never arrive on time. The person who’s waiting controls the room, and today, that person was going to be me.

The café was warm, the windows fogged from the rain outside. It smelled like roasted coffee beans and damp coats a mix I didn’t mind. My eyes swept the space, noting exits, sightlines, and the flow of people. It wasn’t crowded, just enough bodies to blend into.

I chose a corner table facing the door, my back against the wall. I needed to see everything, Claire walking in, anyone who might follow her, anyone who didn’t belong. The table gave me the perfect vantage point, and from here, I could play the role of harmless coworker without missing a single detail.

The waitress came over, smiling like I was just another ordinary guy grabbing a drink before work.

“Coffee, black,” I said smoothly. “And a croissant. Warm, if you can.”

When she left, I settled in, letting my mind turn over what was to come. This wasn’t just a friendly coffee outing. It was reconnaissance. Every word, every gesture Claire made today would be another thread I could use later.

The bell above the café door jingled, and there she was. Right on time. She shook off her umbrella and scanned the room. Her eyes landed on me, and I gave her my best practiced smile, the kind that said I’m safe, I’m trustworthy, you can lean on  me.

She came over, shrugging out of her coat as she sat down.

“You made it,” I said, standing halfway to greet her like a gentleman, then sinking back into my chair. “Didn’t think you’d brave the rain.”

She laughed, light and easy. “Rain’s nothing. It’s part of city living.”

I kept my smile in place, leaning just a bit closer, as if I was listening harder than anyone ever had before. People love that. They love thinking they have your full attention.

We made small talk at first, the coffee, her scarf, meaningless things. She relaxed quickly, which was the point.

Then, slowly, I shifted gears. “Thanks again for walking me through the clinic yesterday,” I said, sipping my coffee. “It made my first day a hell of a lot smoother.”

“No problem,” she said with a small shrug. “You’ll get used to it fast. Everyone’s pretty welcoming.”

I tilted my head like I was considering that, then gave her a modest chuckle. “I’m still learning the rhythm, though. Who comes and goes, how the schedules work… I hate feeling like I’m in the way.”

That got her talking. She started explaining the flow of patients and shifts, using her hands to outline the process. I nodded along, absorbing everything. Information is leverage.

“Does that apply to outside visitors too?” I asked, like it was just a passing curiosity. “Like specialists or… private consultants?”

She didn’t think twice. “Sometimes, yeah. Dominic Blackwell drops by every couple of weeks. He likes private consultations, so he comes in quietly, no waiting rooms, no fuss.”

My pulse kicked up, but I kept my face neutral, even bored.

“Ah,” I said casually, glancing at her drink. “VIP treatment.”

“Something like that.” She smirked and took a sip.

Perfect. Dominic had just entered the game board, and Claire had given me a glimpse of his movements without even realizing it.

I let the conversation drift back to safer ground, restaurants, weekend plans, city landmarks. She laughed more freely now, her guard completely down. Then, when she wasn’t expecting it, I circled back.

“When Dominic visits,” I said lightly, like it didn’t matter, “is it usually the same time? Just so I don’t get in the way.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Around ten or eleven in the morning. He likes to come and go fast.”

I tucked the information away, careful not to show even a flicker of satisfaction. “Makes sense,” I said with an easy shrug.

When we finished our coffee, I suggested a short walk before heading home. She agreed without hesitation, and we stepped out into the light drizzle. I let her talk while I listened, studying every detail about how she walked, how she carried her bag, the way she glanced over her shoulder at intersections. People reveal more in their movements than in their words.

Her apartment building wasn’t far. Three stories of old brick, squeezed between a laundromat and a flower shop. The perfect kind of place: busy enough to blend in, quiet enough for no one to notice who comes and goes.

I slowed my pace slightly, making it look natural. Claire pulled out her keys, chatting about nothing as she unlocked the door. I watched closely, memorizing the sequence.

Top key. Quick turn. Push. Lift slightly, then pull.

“Thanks again for the coffee,” she said as she stepped inside. “We should do this again sometime.”

I smiled, warm and friendly on the outside, calculating and cold beneath it. “Absolutely. Anytime.”

The door closed between us as I stood there a moment, then turned and walked casually around the block. My eyes scanned the building, the street, everything.

Camera above the laundromat. Another across the street on a lamppost. Blind spot between the two buildings in the alley. Good.

I looped the block again, committing every angle to memory. Pedestrian traffic, car flow, possible escape routes. Every detail mattered.

When I was satisfied, I slipped my phone from my pocket and dialed a number.

The line picked up after a single ring. No greeting.

“She’s inside,” I said quietly, my tone flat and precise. “Routine confirmed. Start watching the building tonight. I want every entrance covered and a log of who comes and goes.”

The voice on the other end didn’t speak, but I heard the faint sound of breathing. Then the line went dead.

I slid the phone away and stood still for a moment, letting the rain soak into my jacket.

Claire had no idea what she’d given me today. A schedule. A location. A pattern.

Step by step, she was walking deeper into my web. And by the time she realized it, if she ever did, it would already be too late.