Those Freaks Know I'm Here

Capricious walked into a small cafe just outside the area in question. “Coffee.” She told the waitress. Capricious noticed a man in a large raincoat pretending not to watch her. She could see his forehead over the newspaper he was “reading”.
“Your coffee.” A mug was placed in front of her; she felt no urge to drink it. Instead, Capricious read her emails off of her blackberry. “York… again. What’s this?” She whispered softly to herself. The screen read: Leave us in peace. She glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching her.
“Excuse me,” said the man who had been watching her. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“If you must.” She was growing paler by the minute.
“Forgive me, but we aren’t… accustomed to visiters around here. Are you here for business or pleasure?” He smiled diplomatically.
“Business. Strictly business.” Capricious replied absent-mindedly.
“Ahh, I’d thought so. Is something wrong?” He looked genuinely concerned.
“They know I’m here. Those freaks know I’m here.” She gasped.

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