One Wrong Move by Angela Smith

possibility of her coming to harm just for butting her nose where she shouldn’t.
    As he parked, her phone buzzed. Even on vibrate mode, the sound could have roused the neighborhood. She grabbed it and answered.
    “Hey, James. I’m fine. Yes, yes, I know. Yes, I promise. Okay. I’m home. I’m fine. About to go to bed. Love you too. Bye.”
    Her sigh was laden with exasperation when she dropped her phone in her purse.
    “Who was that?”
    Her head jerked up, her eyes meeting his through the haze of the evening. Her lips pursed. “A friend.”
    “Boyfriend?”
    Her face softened as she laughed. “No. An uncle. More like a father to me. He was calling to check on me.”
    “Did he have any idea the danger you were putting yourself into?”
    She opened the door, clutched her purse to her stomach, and glared at him. “I expect my car to be here in the morning.” She stepped out, but before shutting the door, she said, “I’m going to bed. I take it you’ll see yourself home.”
    He watched her walk away, into her condo, and he remained there for several minutes to make sure no one lurked nearby. He was glad that hadn’t been a boyfriend who’d called to check up on her, even though it meant nothing. She could have found another one after breaking up with Darrell’s accountant, and Camden certainly didn’t have time to pursue a woman.
    Especially one who left him so breathless.
     
    ***
     
    Rayma
     
    Rayma’s body still trembled long after Camden had gone. She shouldn’t have done what she did, shouldn’t have gotten out of her car to traipse through the boggy plains surrounding Pier 18. What was she thinking?
    She’d discovered a lot about people over her years as a journalist and didn’t believe in reporting every foul thing she learned. Some things were meant to be kept secret, but not when those secrets affected the general public. If Darrell Weberley was using Vin Doux as a cover to manufacture his own brand of designer drugs, the public needed to know. 
    But no story or revelation was worth her life.
    Camden had scared her today. When she’d first spotted him, she hid behind the tree and prayed he hadn’t seen her. Her body’s reaction to him baffled her. He’d yanked her up and pulled her close to him. He could kill her with his bare hands, but something told her he wasn’t that kind of person.
    She wanted to know more about him.
    Pacing through her home, she wondered how she’d gotten to the point where this mission was taking over her life. She’d dated a man she didn’t even like in an attempt to learn more about the restaurant, and now she was fantasizing over a man who worked closely with the criminal she wanted to help put behind bars.
    Although people had often accused her of being impulsive, her impetuous decisions of late were over the top. Had to stem from boredom. She wasn’t meant to work in an office and read off news from a teleprompter. She was living alone in a city on the Texas gulf, her only friends the ones she’d made from work—and Beacon, who weaved around her feet as she paced.
    Maybe she should take James up on his offer to work with him. Just follow people around and uncover their unfaithfulness. He said he did more than that, but none of it sounded appealing to her. At least she’d be back in Austin, maybe with a chance to meet a real man who didn’t believe in making a living through corruption.
    She glanced through her phone at the pictures she’d taken of the pier and the building. The light and shadows of the sunset emphasized different themes of the photos. If nothing else, she could sell pictures instead of stories. She sat down to download them, edited a few. By the time she was done, her back ached and neck was tight.
    She posted a photo of the pier with a quote about strength. Within minutes, her email chirped. The same anonymous person asked her to meet tomorrow at Bill’s Beer and Burgers.
     
    I have information for you.
     
    She replied this