Scotty asked again when they reached the car. Sydney slid into the front passenger seat, glanced at her watch. “I need to pack a few things I forgot the first time around. Maybe you could drop me off at my apartment, grab us some fast food, come back, get me, and we can head straight to the airport.” “Special requests?” Scotty asked, backing out of the parking space, then having to stop for two young women who darted in front of the car, probably late for a class. “Anything.” Which seemed to suit Scotty fine, especially the part about heading straight to the airport, no doubt because he thought it would keep her out of trouble. The moment he dropped her off in front of her building, she ran upstairs with her briefcase and overnight bag, shoved her key in the lock and threw open the door, tossed everything down, then opened her cell phone. Several phone calls later, Sydney was no closer to learning Zach Griffin’s true identity. He wasn’t answering his phone, and his so-called boss at the “newspaper”
