Counterfeit Conspiracies Read Online Free PDF

angry Amazon when she discovered the laptop wasn't where she'd left it. The doorknob rattled, and a key was stabbed into the lock, but the chair held everything tight.
    Ignore her . Concentrate . The lighted tank filled my vision. Three-hundred gallons of salt water perfection that only occurred through human design. The Amazon was looking for something here, and I needed to find it. But what?
    The fish were beautiful, shiny rainbows, swimming in and around the huge chunk of pink coral that had cost Simon the earth. I remembered shuddering at the amount he'd spent the day it arrived, but he smiled and said the price was well worth it, before he quickly changed the subject.
    Of course.
    But how . . .?
    The other chair might work, but the follow-through would be awkward and the effort could take more than one throw. The door started vibrating on its hinges, and I took another frantic look around. The chair would have to do.
    A loud jarring sound made the door and wall tremble. The Amazon apparently decided to throw herself against the barrier.
    As I moved toward the desk, my foot hit something heavy. I retrieved the object at my feet. The ugly paperweight Simon's mother bought him last year for Christmas. The laptop went onto a high shelf near the escape hatch, and I hurled the heavy lead crystal at the tank with every ounce of strength I had.
    Glass hit glass. For a second nothing happened. I crouched behind the desk and wondered what to try next. Then I heard a sound like a gunshot. The Amazon quit pounding. There was one second of silence, then a great cracking noise, like a thousand breaking glasses. The peace of the room was breached, and splintered glass and salty water swooshed onto the floor.
    I raced over, trying not to notice the fish, floundering and helpless. It took a second to find the coral, but it was right there, near what was left of the tank, under a large, jagged-edged piece of glass. The twin pieces, naturally dissected right down the middle, came apart as I pulled. I could still see how together they had formed the perfect cavern for fitting the waterproofed, salt-water protected envelope that now lay in my other hand. An envelope holding one precious thumb drive.
    The ramming resumed, and I noticed a crack form down the middle of the door. Clutching my treasure, I grabbed the laptop and flew through the washroom door. The same moment, one of the chair legs splintered. I slammed the back door. Shelves again in place, the locking mechanism snapped home, and I felt immense, but momentary, satisfaction. Even through the thickness, I knew from the sound of another mighty crack when the washroom door gave way. I smiled, wondering if the Amazon had enjoyed Jenny's Fish and Chips, and how long it would take her to find out how I'd escaped.
    The thumb drive was returned to the coral and went into the pocket with Martha's books and the bills. I wanted to give it as much protection as I could. Getting Simon's laptop into my purse proved a bit more difficult, but determination won out. When I heard a gunshot on the other side of the wall, my smile widened. Guess the woman was tired of messing about with locked doors. Definitely time to get moving.
    A service door led from the hallway to a sheltered exit, where I skirted a delivery lorry. With another backward glance to assure myself there was no fire-topped fury behind me, I blended in with the noontime masses. I needed somewhere to land for a few minutes and regroup. As luck would have it, the crowd herded me toward a busy fish and chips in the opposite direction from the fictitious Jenny's . A perfect place to hide.
    The shop was full of hungry diners. At the counter, still panting a bit, I pointed at something on the overhead menu, little caring what I ordered, simply trying to rid my memory of those other fish. The gorgeous wonders dying on Simon's floor.
    "I so love a good fish, don't you? With chips on the side, naturally. My idea of heaven."
    I froze. The sound