19. Good girl
NINETEEN
GOOD GIRL
Lake
Three hours later, the Ramses have left, and I’m still at the bar, hoping that horrible woman will take me up on the offer and meet me in the bathroom. I’ve been on the lookout for her, and since I don’t trust myself to be a good scout, I’ve visited the bathroom every half an hour just to double-check if she’s in there.
The day shift has left, and the afternoon shift is preparing for dinner service. The new server is looking at me funny, the bartender is looking at me funny, and I’m definitely feeling the pressure of their scrutiny. I’m feeling pressure all around, but it’s a me thing, not a they thing, so I move to the bar and order a margarita for my nerves.
Another half hour passes, and I’m a nervous wreck, but I’ve got no choice but to sit here and wait and pray she returns now that Alessio’s pulled back the cops.
The bill for the margarita never comes. Which is great because I don’t have money, but not so great when Alessio’s paying for everything. It occurs to me that the reason he was so agreeable when I asked him to pull back the cops was because he could ask the bartender or a server about me, and they’d tell him. Hell, for all I know, they’re watching me because he told them to.
I need another drink.
I’m not made for this shit. I’m just not. I’m meant for eating, sleeping, and meeting cool new people while traveling alone to beautiful, low-key leisure destinations.
Around six in the evening, a woman walks by the bar and glances at me from under her sombrero. I recognize her and give her a few minutes before going after her. We fit as comfortably as sardines inside the small bathroom. The strong vanilla air freshener sprays a second after we enter. It makes my already queasy belly more unsettled.
The woman puts her hat on the sink and pulls out her phone. She holds it to show someone walking up to a silver car that kind of looks familiar.
“What am I looking at?” I ask.
“Keep watching,” she says.
The person filming opens the car door and sits down. My uncle turns from the passenger seat and smiles at whoever is in his cab.
I gasp and start to beg, but she silences me with a thick hand over my mouth. I watch in horror as my uncle starts the car while the person in the back pulls out a weapon and starts screwing on what I believe to be a silencer.
“When I remove my hand,” she says “you’ll tell me everything you heard and saw in the Angelini house, and if I’m satisfied, your uncle will keep on driving. Blink once if you understand.”
I blink.
“Good girl.” She removes her hand. “If you scream, I’ll shut you up.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.”
She smiles, showing me crooked teeth. “You’re welcome.”
“Okay.” My eyes are glued to the screen, where whoever is in my uncle’s cab is pointing a weapon at him. “I’m not sure what’s important or what’s not, but the day Val left?—”
“His sister isn’t with him?” the woman interrupts.
I shake my head. “No, she took his plane and left.” I leave out the fact that Alessio’s tracking her.
“I already like this. Go on.”
“So happy to please. I overheard a conversation where he argued with someone who wants to live in a small town in the States. The man on the phone wants to marry someone, and he asked Alessio to be his best man, which I think Alessio refused, because Alessio told the man he can’t get married at all. But the guy already bought property in the US when he shouldn’t have. He mentioned a sheriff.”
“A sheriff?” She frowns.
“Yeah, a police officer.” I can tell she doesn’t like that.
“Did you get the man’s name?”
“It starts with an M. That’s all I could make out.”
She pushes me. Hard. So hard, the back of my head slams against the concrete wall. Dizzy, I check for bumps. I hate this woman.
She gets in my face. “That is the most important part of the assignment. We want to know who this man is.”
“You said you wanted to know who killed your brother. Not about some guy in the US.”
“It’s him.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Alessio wouldn’t care about some random asshole moving to America and marrying. He wants to bring him here where he can protect and hide him.”
I admit that makes sense. “I’ll get you the name.”
“You better.” On the phone screen, the man lifts the gun and points at the back of my uncle’s head. I try to grab the phone, as if that’ll help with anything.
She smiles. “You’re holding out on me.”
“Call off your man,” I say, panic in my voice.
“Tell me what I want to know.”
“I don’t know his name.”
“Liar.”
“I don’t! I swear! Oh my God, please, he’s killing him.”
“Shhh. Keep your voice down.”
“Please,” I cry out. “Please. Alessio has a secret drawer. Okay. Inside, inside…” My God, I can’t think. “Um, okay, there’s passports. Two guns, but one of them isn’t his. Not his style. A golden gun, a…”
“A Nighthawk?”
“Yes!” I agree because she seems interested. What’s a Nighthawk? Hopefully a type of gun.
“And…and…and,” I stammer. “I know it’s not his because his initial is A and there’s an F on the gun.”
The woman hangs up and puts the phone in the pocket of her shorts.
“Wait. What are you doing?” I reach for her phone.
A blade pokes under my chin. Putrid breath fans me, and her dilated pupils tell me she’s likely high on something. This makes her more dangerous. She’s not thinking clearly. She’s too aggressive. I wonder if her husband knows. He didn’t seem to appreciate her aggression toward me since he needs me.
“I want that gun. Bring it to me tomorrow.” Her blade pushes higher. I think she broke skin.
“Alessio will know it’s missing, and I’m the only person in the house.”
“Blame one of the staff.”
“I can’t. He won’t believe me. He’ll know it was me. Please, you don’t understand. If anything surrounding him changes, he’ll come for me. Then I’ll be dead, and what happens to you? You get nothing.”
She closes the switchblade and pockets it. “What else was in the drawer?”
“A small black plastic phone. Like a burner phone.”
“Is that all?”
I nod.
“I need that name.”
“I’ll get it. But I want my uncle alive.”
The woman starts looking around, bending, checking out the small space. She climbs on the toilet seat and reaches for the top of a small cabinet. Her fingertips come away with a layer of dust. “Come back here tomorrow and leave Fis’s gun on top of that cabinet. I’ll take what I need from it and put it back. You’ll return it to the house so nobody will suspect anything. Around this time?”
“That’s a bad idea. I’m a terrible spy and an even worse thief. Alessio will bust me, and he’ll—” She cuts me a look that makes me cover my mouth with both hands. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ll bring the gun.”
“Good girl.” With that, the woman leaves.