Page 80 of Faded Gray Lines

Five minutes later, I was dressed. After finger combing my hair, I gave myself a quick glance in the mirror. It wasn’t glamorous, but for where I planned on going, it worked just fine.

However, first thing was first.

Retrieving my phone from the couch where Mateo had thrown it, I sat down and dialed the number I’d called so many times I’d lost count. Even more was at stake now. With Mateo back in our lives, this silence had to end.

After eight rings, I hung up and dialed again.

Nothing.

My euphoric mood from last night vanished, leaving only the churning fear that’d been building for days.

“Answer, damn it!” I screamed into the mouthpiece. Not like it mattered. Even on the third call, I got nothing but a pleasant voicemail telling me to leave a message and it would be returned shortly.

Think, Leighton, think...

I had two options. One involved an entire legion of dangerous underground criminals I barely knew, while the other involved a decorated legal band of them related to me. My choice came down to the lesser of the two evils.

An hour later, I stood outside my mother’s office at City Hall. The place buzzed with activity as aides and interns rushed around with phones permanently attached to their heads. Fighting the urge to run back to my car, I approached the receptionist’s desk and forced a smile.

“I’d like to see Mayor Donovan, please.”

The male secretary, dressed in a bright blue tie and American flag pin, shuffled papers while typing one-handed on his laptop. “I’m sorry, the mayor is very busy. You’ll have you make an appointment.”

I placed a hand on the counter. “No, I need to see her now. Let her know Leighton is here.”

“Leighton?” he asked, his fingers pausing mid-type. “As in Leighton Harcourt? Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, Miss Harcourt. Right away.” Picking up the phone, he pressed a button and cleared his throat. “Mayor Donovan, I have your daughter in the lobby. May I send her back? Yes, of course.” Flashing an overly-white smile, he pointed down the hallway. “Take the hallway all the way to the end, make your first right, and it’s the third door on the left. She’s waiting for you.”

After multiple wrong turns, I finally made my way to her office. Not bothering to knock, I opened the door and walked right in. My mother sat behind her massive mahogany desk, every state-of-the-art electronic at her fingertips. Just like every space she occupied, the walls were covered in expensive artwork and the room was probably decorated by the highest priced interior designer ever to grace an office. I slowly sank onto the edge of the Italian leather chair and waited.

“Yes, a brand new six iron,” my mother said into the phone, holding up a manicured finger while rolling her eyes. “I know I just bought the set, but apparently he lost it playing last week.” She laughed in that fake high-pitched tone of hers. “Finn isn’t the calmest golfer, you know. He probably missed a drive and threw it in a pond. Next week will be fine. Thank you so much.”

And this is what she does all day. Taxpayers’ dollars well spent.

As she hung up the phone, I raised a disinterested eyebrow. “Problem?”

She waved her hand in the air. “You know your stepfather, he’d lose his head if it wasn’t attached.” Switching subjects, she clapped her hands together. “I’m so pleased to see you. I know it’s early, but there’s a coffee shop nearby we can walk to if you—”

“Mother, this isn’t a social call,” I said, cutting her off. “Last night at the party, Finn introduced me to a man named Alex Atwood.”

Her smile faded a little. “Ah yes, Finn knows so many generous donors in this city. He’s been a godsend.”

“Yes, well, godsend or not, he’s not safe.”

Deep set lines formed around her mouth. “Leighton, don’t be absurd.”

I hated myself a little for what I was about to say, but stroking her ego was the only way to reach her. “Look, I know in your own disturbing way you’ve tried to mend fences, but you don’t know that man, Mother. Not really.”

“And you do?” She let out a dainty chuckle. “Leighton, don’t worry. I collect a check from Alex and that’s all. His dealings are with Finn, and I trust my husband’s judgment.”

I took a deep breath. There was no use pushing the issue. She’d already made up her mind and slammed the door. Besides, Alex wasn’t the main reason I’d come here.

“Then let’s talk about what happened at the cantina,” I said, lowering my voice.

“Do you mean your rude behavior?” The sharpness in her tone hit a nerve, but I ignored it.

“No, you said Brody told you something.” Although I practiced saying the words in the car, I felt myself choking to get them out. “You said he told you my secret. When?”

“Does it matter? It should’ve been you, Leighton. All this time wasted...” Folding her hands in front of her, she sniffled, catching me off guard with a rare show of emotion.