The conversation came to an abrupt halt. Nathan Redgrave thought for a few minutes before putting the phone back where it was.
He brought the cigarette to his lips, took a hard drag, and exhaled a white smoke ring. It filled the car, carrying the faint scent of menthol tobacco.
Fiona Keating quickly emerged from the pharmacy. She opened the car door, got in, and discreetly glanced at the phone. "Nathan, let's go."
Nathan Redgrave nodded, stubbed out the cigarette, and casually tossed it out the window. "Fasten your seatbelt."
"Oh, right. I completely forgot."
Fiona Keating pulled the seatbelt across and buckled it. "All set. Let's go."
Nathan Redgrave flicked on the turn signal and drove onto the main road.
Fiona Keating's thoughts drifted. 'Why hasn't Nathan Redgrave asked about the recording? I'm sure I set it to start playing automatically after I got out of the car.'
'Did something go wrong with the phone?'
'Did Nathan Redgrave just not hear it?'
