Page 15 of Faded Gray Lines

I’d already planted the first seed by begging Brody to stop by the cantina for lunch. I hoped Emilio would be back by then, and I could watch them interact. Of course, he’d shot that down with an important business lunch excuse. Still, I held out hope that his protective big brother side would win out over his responsible one.

People tended to drop their guards around like-minded individuals. It was basic human nature. They forgot others were around while in familiar settings with familiar people and they slipped up. In fact, I counted on it.

Five

Leighton

Once the lunchrush calmed down, I snuck off to the back for a breather. It wasn’t like we were slammed anymore, and besides, Amanda was a pro and could handle it alone. Five minutes and I’d slink back in. No one would miss me.

Finding a darkened corner in the hallway, I leaned against the wall and swiped the back of my hand across my forehead. It was the first moment I had to myself and I wasn’t going to waste it. I knew my phone was tapped, but I was past the point of giving a shit. Pulling it out of my apron, I dialed the number I knew by heart, praying for an answer. When the voice mail kicked in again, my soul shattered.

“Hey,” I said, managing a lift to my voice as I wiped away tear. “It’s me. I guess this is the fifth message I’ve left and I just—I really need to know you’re okay. Please call me back.”

Ending the call, I hugged the phone to my chest, refusing to break down. My knees bent on their own, and I almost sank to the floor when a loud crash locked me in place.

“I have no idea. Why don’t you find out for yourself?” A heavily accented voice boomed from an opened crack in the door to my right.

Every instinct told me this had to be Emilio Reyes. I knew eavesdropping was a bad idea, but I couldn’t stop myself. Pausing outside, I leaned in and listened for more.

“Look, I did my part. It’s not my fault the useless piece of shit couldn’t get the job done.”

Taking a few cautious steps, I peeked around the edge of the door. He sat at his desk, papers and invoices strewn everywhere, his black slicked back hair and moustache illuminated by the bright glow from his laptop.

“Hey,” he shouted, his patience gone. “No digas mi nombre. Estás en una oficina pública, idiota.” Don’t say my name. You’re in a public office, idiot.

Understanding him wasn’t a problem. I found foreign language fascinating, and much to my mother’s dismay became fluent in Spanish fairly quickly. The translation wasn’t what turned my stomach. I’d been with Luis long enough to know when a Latino man got angry, shit was bad. However, when a Latino man got angry and flipped from English to Spanish, shit was about to hit the fan.

“Un momento, por favor.” One moment please.

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Performing a half twist, I slammed my chest against the wall and focused on what was in front of me. Unfortunately, it happened to be a few framed ‘employee of the month’ photos. Lewd snapshots of Emilio and whatever poor girl he’d conned into posing with him while he blatantly groped her chest. It disgusted me, but I stared at it like it was a fucking Picasso.

“Can I help you with something?”

His breath was hot on the back of my neck and it made me nauseous. I wanted to rip the damn picture off the wall and hit him with it, but at the last minute, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

You can do this.

“No, I’m new here, and I’m just admiring everyone’s accomplishments.”

God, that was horrible. He’ll never buy that.

“Ah, yes, you’re Harcourt’s sister. Leighton, right?”

I nodded, furiously swallowing, yet still drowning in my own thick saliva.

“That’s Monica,” he said, tapping the glass with a dirty fingernail. “She was such a hard worker. Always took one for the team.”

Gross.

“Was?”

“Whose position do you think you filled?”

I pointed to another picture. “And her?”

I knew exactly who she was. It was a test.