When Lies Unfold

Chapter 83

Shortly after the explosions

It’sa shitshow at the remnants of what used to be Hidalgo’s compound even after the fire crew put out the blaze.

We made our way onto the property as Juarez was securin’ the site and requestin’ an additional crew to help process the scene.

The scent of burnin’ flesh is pungent as hell. Smoke still wafts in some areas, ashes coverin’ most everythin’ around. Bodies scatter the ground. Some are dismembered while others are horribly charred.

Nobody can tell me a damn thing about whether or not Lola’s body was found. There’s still no trace of her, and I’m about to lose my fuckin’ mind.

Juarez’s face has a permanent scowl as he barks orders to his crew. “I don’t care what you have to do—find me that goddamn book and her body and bring them to menow!”

The exhausted-lookin’ twenty-year-old man mutters, “Yes, sir,” before turnin’ around and ploddin’ off. His protective jumpsuit’s already blackened with soot and whatever other shit he’s had to sift through in this mess.

Juarez pins me with a sharp look. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Not supposed to do a lotta things, but here I am.”

When he surveys my vest, his suspicion is potent. “What are you wearing that for?”

“Protection.” That’s all I say, ’cause I don’t owe him an explanation.

Not anymore.

He looks like he’s about to lash out at me when someone else calls for him. “Agent Juarez! I think we found something.” Another young guy in a jumpsuit rushes forward. His eagerness for approval stains the air, his body vibratin’ with excitement.

If he only knew what kind of motherfucker he’s dealin’ with. If he only knew what Juarez does in his downtime.

Juarez barks out, “What is it?”

The younger man’s eyes bounce cautiously from Juarez to me, then Gordo, and back to his boss. “We found an escape tunnel.”

Juarez is smart enough to know somethin’s changed between us. I’m not botherin’ to hide it, either. But he’s too obsessed with findin’ even the barest remnants of Hidalgo’s book and Lola’s body that he ignores Gordo and me taggin’ along to see the tunnel.

“Holy shit.” Juarez mutters this under his breath as we stare down the openin’. His head snaps up, eyes locked on two particular members of his evidence cleanup team. “Anyone head down there to clear the area?”

“Uh, y-yes and no.” The female and male glance at each other before the female says, “We just discovered it and are in the process of clearing it. Agent Kerrigan reported that the tunnel seems lengthy, but we haven’t found where it ends yet.”

Juarez’s hand impatiently cuts through the air. “You better find out where the hell it leads!” His frantic eyes search the scene, his voice boomin’ over those siftin’ through the rubble and others’ conversations. “And where the hell is Agent Garcia?”

Gordo and I exchange a look, ’cause Juarez’s never been this rabid in the years we’ve worked together. Somethin’s got ’im spooked…and bad.

“I don’t know, sir. She was here earlier, but?—”

“I’m here.” A woman approaches, her long legs movin’ in confident strides. Smears of ash and blood decorate her face, along with scrapes and bruises along her arms and jawline. She’s dressed in Hidalgo’s employee uniform, her white blouse and black knee-length skirt ripped and bloodied.

She looks like shit, so it makes sense she’s the one they had on the inside who got caught in the blast.

“How about you tell me what the hell happened here?” Juarez bites out the demand.

Standin’ with her feet shoulder width apart, Agent Garcia meets his stare head-on. “I was inside when the explosion happened, sir.”

He plants his hands on his hips, brows risin’. “Did you witness who attacked Hidalgo?”

Agent Garcia’s expression remains stoic. “No, sir. I discovered him after he was already deceased.”

Gordo’s eyes cut to mine. Hidalgo’s dead? Well, shit. That’s excellent fuckin’ news.

Juarez squints at the female agent. “Someone decided to puncture his jugular.” His jaw works. “On both sides, no less.”

Agent Garcia remains silent for a beat. “It’s common knowledge that Mr. Carrera had many enemies.”

“I don’t suppose you know what happened to Mrs. Carrera, do you?” Impatience lines Juarez’s features, his tone sarcastic as fuck.

“Plenty of bodies still need to be identified, sir.”

Juarez doesn’t bother to hide how much he dislikes her answer. “Keep me apprised, Garcia.”

“Yes, sir.” Only now does she slide a curious glance our way, her eyes lingerin’ a split second longer on Gordo before she walks off.

When Juarez heads over to other agents processin’ the scene, I raise a brow at Gordo and tip my head, silently commandin’ him to step away from the tunnel entrance.

To avoid bein’ overheard, my voice is muted. “Wanna tell me what that was about?”

“What?” His expression might pass for innocence if he were anybody else. But I know him too well.

So, I pin him with a heavy stare. The asshole holds it for far too long, testin’ my damn patience.

I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. “The last time we did this, you wouldn’t tell me why you were so fuckin’ moody, and it ended up bein’ ’cause that blonde from the swanky eco-lodge broke up with you when we were seventeen.”

He gasps, frownin’ with exaggeration as he massages the center of his chest like I’ve wounded his feelin’s. “Too soon, Santy. Too. Soon.”

I lift my eyes to the damn sky and mutter, “Fuck me.”

Gordo leans in. “Agent Garcia and I met by pure happenstance.”

I squint at him. “You’ve been readin’ my dictionary again, haven’t you?”

“It’s in your office when I steal your Imperial. Can’t help it if I read whatever you’ve got marked.” He shrugs. “I’ve discovered knowledge pairs well with beer.”

When I pin him with an impatient look, he sighs. “Okay, so we met and didn’t know each other’s…careers.” He lifts his shoulder again in a partial shrug. “It came out after the fact?—”

“After the fact, meanin’…?” I prompt.

He gives me a You know what the fuck I mean look before continuin’. “And she didn’t take it so well.”

I scan for the sight of the female agent. Once I lay eyes on her, I pose the most critical question. “Can she be trusted?”

Gordo’s response is immediate. “More than he can.”

“Not reassurin’.”

Before I can question him further, somebody shouts from the tunnel openin’. “I found something!”