“Damn!That’salotof puke,” Mila commented as she stepped past Claire and into the room. “They’ve renovated. It’s nicer than last time, or moremodernanyway. Your uncle sat right here when he bought me.” She was moving between the furniture.
Sitting in the chair, she continued, “Reginald sat here just like this with a little paddle. Hard to fucking believe I’m sitting here again and not headed straight back into that life,” her bravado was quickly thinning and revealing just how this weighed on her.
While Claire's vomiting was a bit inconvenient, it was understandable. I wondered how this situation looked to her and if she felt as prone to bad luck as I did. The coincidence was upsetting. No way to argue that, but it wasn’t all that surprising. The syndicate worked primarily out of City Hall and the positions within it. The police force shared the building. If City Hall weren't corrupt,thatwould have been a surprise.
It also wasn’t unusual for the two buildings to be connected. This city was old, and many buildings date back hundreds of years. There were a lot of tunnels and passageways beneath the buildings and sidewalks, old sewer systems, and access points to them. Even burial crypts had been lost to cave-ins during particularly wet springs. This simple tunnel between two buildings that were built together was the least of our problems.
No one responded to Mila because they weren't listening or they needed to figure out what to say.
“So, is this where you work, Claire?” Mila continued, undeterred by the lack of a response. She was really getting on my nerves now. I despised men who hurt women, but I could make her life less comfortable. “Must be a nice place, good benefits?”
Claire sat on the extreme edge of one of the chairs, trying to catch her breath after the last of her dry heaves subsided, with her hands in her lap like she didn’t want to risk contamination from the previous occupants. The worst of her retching eased, but sweat lingered on her brow, making her look especially vulnerable, and I stood beside her, rubbing her back.
“Yeah, Mila, this is where I work,” she dry-heaved once before she laughed, a pained and slightly manic sound. “The benefits haven’t even fucking kicked in yet, because I had to go on disability shortly after being offered the position. My coworkers are nice, and it's especially charming with my boss showing up dead on Christmas.”
“What’s your average day like? Do you clean the cages?” there was a slightly hysterical edge to Mila’s voice.
I gritted my teeth, attempting to hold back the worst of my anger, “Stop it, Mila!”
I was grateful to her for bringing us here today, and that was the only reason I made an attempt. I was still unsure whether I could trust her, and her bringing me here wasn't proof of good intentions. Regardless, this was an incredibly helpful breakthrough. That alone kept me from wringing her fucking neck at how she spoke to Claire.
“No, Mila, I don’t clean cages, but this is where I work. Fucking shit, isn’t it? City Hall and this place were the only two jobs I’ve ever had in my life that I enjoyed, and this is what I was working above!?
“Why the fuck didn’t I take that job as a frozen yogurt chef? I thought I was so important because of my degree. Three fucking swirls for a small and five for a large doesn't sound so bad now, does it? Plus tips, that’s got to be good for ten bucks a shift.” Claire’s fingers twisted her curls, pulling hard enough to sting.
I reached for her hands, trying to untangle and prevent them from harming the pretty brown spirals. “Baby, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“I didn’t want to sell frozen yogurt because the title was so stupid, and I spent all this time on my degree, and I have so much debt. But I should have just sold the yogurt. Don’t you see?” She dropped her face into her hands.
I patted her back in a soothing rhythm, “Yeah, baby. I see.”
Mila burst into giggles, “Okay, you’re right. That sucks.”
“It sucks,” she agreed blandly as her gaze drifted to our guests.
Carlos and Dio rifled through the room as they did in the others, but there was far less to see here. This place was all show, with no records nor evidence of dirty secrets. All topped with a lovely public face. Nevertheless, the two men were still guarded and secretive even though their postures relaxed almost immediately upon clearing the tunnel without landing in a trap.
The friendly nature of my and Hector’s relationship still hadn’t recovered from the death of his brother-in-law, but at least things were workable. His men were surprisingly even less trusting, willing to do anything to protect him from a potential threat. Their loyalty was incredibly admirable while also proving to be a giant pain in my ass.
“What do we do now?” Claire asked through an exhausted laugh, her thoughts still on the unfortunate turns her life had taken.
I made a noise in my throat to convey my uncertainty, “We need to accelerate our efforts to find and confront my father, though I am not sure how just yet. Thankfully neither building will be open until January third. So that gives us some time to figure things out on this front. We’ll stay hacked into both systems. I'll put a couple of guys on surveillance, and Mila can coordinate with them.”
“Why does it sound like you think that’s not good enough?” the glint of fear in Claire’s eyes cut me.
I touched her cheek, offering her a sliver of comfort. “Ultimately, I don’t think it is. I’m hopeful we can come up with something better over the next few days.”
“If you’re giving me a team, I’ll take Victor. He's not nearly as stupid as the other dogs you keep,” her sneer made me wonder if some of the men treated her in less than respectable ways.
“You can’t have him. James is already refusing to leave because of his girlfriend.” I continued, keeping my concerns out of my tone.
“So, you want me to do an essential job while offering me castoffs instead of the best man for the job?”
“Nice try, Mila. We both know James is leagues better with computers than Vick.” I shook my head at her like she was a lying teenager trying to spin some bullshit to get out of the house for the night. “Actually, thetwoof them would greatly help you. Emma is a Library Sciences major.”
“I’m not sure how that would help me” We didn’t answer her, and she rolled her eyes. “Fine! I’ll entertain myself by annoying James instead. I don’t know if I’ll enjoy annoying his girlfriend yet, but at least she’s another set of eyes.”
“God help them,” I told Claire as I helped her out of her seat to see if she felt well enough to walk.