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His disbelief didn’t waver. “I can arrange for security to escort you—”
“No.” She wouldn’t endanger their security’seither. “Can you point me toward the news person you trust?”
“Trust…? I don’t know if that’s the perfect word, but push came to shove, I’d talk to Jimmy Clave. Channel One News, and he’s always out for a smoke in front. Go to the left of the valet stand.”
“Jimmy, Channel One.” Adelia stood, sucking her bottom lip in. “Sometimes, people cross paths with those they’re meant to meet.”
He extendedhis hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
They shook hands, remaining nameless, but she knew that his story was a treasure shared. “Likewise.”
He took Colin’s note and set it aside as she eased away, checking for other Mayhem by the front entrance before slipping out the side bellboy door.
Sure enough, a man in a suit, smoking a cigarette, laughed and bantered with two valets. She approacheduntil a few feet away, she suddenly found herself unsure what to say or how to make her boots scoot another step.
The night was cold, and with the overhead lighting, it was bright as day, but the safety of the sunlight was gone. Jimmy caught sight of her, letting the cigarette hang on his lips before taking a long drag, letting it out, and beckoning her closer in a way that screamed New Yorkmobster.
Her nameless concierge semi-trusted him, and why that was who she had placed her trust in, she had no idea, but her feet un-Velcroed, and Adelia stepped closer.
The valets smiled hello and goodbye at once, abandoning her to the reporter. He took another drag and dropped the butt, stomping it out. “Can I help you?”
“You’re here to cover the event?”
His gaze rolled. “With every otherbozo and clown in the city. Can’t miss this, huh?” His sarcasm rolled. “What about you?”
“I was inside already.” Adelia swallowed her nerves. Some conversations had the potential to alter the course of her life. Jimmy Clave, if he took her seriously, could do that.
“Oh yeah?” He eyed her clothes. “How was it?”
She bit the corners of her lips and remembered the haunting smell of hell. Silvio’sshipping container would torture her mind any time she remembered.
“Gloria Astor isn’t a humanitarian,” Adelia said. “She’s a human trafficker on one of the largest scales that I’ve ever heard of, and she uses her shipping carriers to do it.”
He didn’t respond.
“Every reporter—” Adelia shot her hand behind her, nearly out of breath. “The ones for TV shows and magazines, the newspapers, they’recovering a lie.”
Jimmy casually pulled a pack of smokes from inside his suit coat. “Who are you?” He wasn’t accusatory or disbelieving, just curious-sounding.
“I’m just a person—” She choked up. “Someone needs to stop her, and I thought I could slay the monster, but…”
He sucked his cheeks in thought. “Smoke?”
“No, thank you.”
Jimmy shook out a cigarette for himself and lit it, pocketingthe pack and inhaling. Adelia watched, wondering what he thought and why he didn’t say anything.
“So?” she finally said, wondering if she’d told the wrong person or if he wouldn’t believe her, just like Colin hadn’t.
“Got anything to go on?”
Her head dropped back and hope surged. He didn’t discount what she’d said simply because it was Gloria Astor! “I have a recording where she explainswhy she does it.”
Jimmy’s hand still mid-way to take another drag. “No shit?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“How are you still alive?”