FASHION AND CRIME
He pulled out his phone, dialed the number, and held it to his ear.
At BrightWave Marketing, Russell sat at his desk, tapping a pen against a blank notepad. His mind was far away, still thinking of the mystery man in the photo. Suddenly, his phone rang on the table, and it was a Private Number.
He frowned, staring at it. For a moment, he considered letting it ring out. Then, with a deep breath, he swiped to answer.
“Hello?”
A low voice spoke on the other end. “Russell. Good afternoon.”