“Brother-in-law,” I counter. “And he deserved to get his ass kicked.”
“Like I said.” Raquel heads through my door and tips her chin for the guards on the other side. “Will Smith. Tommy Lee Jones. Should we expect total occupation soon, or are you keeping the aliens at bay?”
“Doctor Raquel!”
“Oops.” She zips her lips and tosses her fake key away. “Sorry, guys. The boss has spoken.” She drops her hands into her coat pockets and heads toward the elevator.
Frustrated, I take out my phone and flip the camera to selfie mode, then I run a finger along my eyebrows. Smoothing them down. Straightening them out. Measuring them to make sure they’re the same on both sides. “What the hell is she talking about?”
“Chief Mayet.” Number-Two moves through my door and stops onthe opposite side of my desk, his hands behind his back and his eyes firmly fixed on my face. His chest is broad, unnaturally so, and his chin is large.
I set my phone down again and study his swollen deltoids, noticeable even under a suit jacket. I think he enjoys more vices than just cigarettes.
“You’re leaving for the day?”
“Soon.” I take the tweezers and roll my chair back, making room so I can fold my pant leg up. “When does Cordoza intend to transport our John Doe away from this facility?”
“You… uh…” Unable to help himself, he drops his robotic stance and wanders closer, tilting at the hips to get a look at what I’m doing. “I’ve not yet received instructions on the matter. What are you doing?”
“Removing my stitches.” I fold my pant leg as high as it’ll go, exposing my knee and the sutures left behind—one has already fallen out. “What do you mean you don’t have instructions? The autopsy is complete. I’ve done my job.” I hold the tweezers in my left hand and use my right to snag a pair of scissors from my drawer. “There’s no reason for that body to still be here. If Estefan desires discretion on the matter, he should swing by and collect his DB immediately.” I pinch the left-most suture with the tweezers, pulling the nylon away from my skin, then I draw my scissors closer and cut the thread with a quicksnip. “My night-shift counterpart will arrive shortly. She’s not the chief, but she’s the acting chief in my absence, and she’s damn good at her job. Having an unaccounted-for body in the fridge is something she’ll notice.”
“So call her and tell her not to come to work today.”
I select the next suture with the tweezers andsnip. “So you’d have me work that shift, too? Stay on all night, despite having worked all day? I don’t recall agreeing to those conditions when Mr. Cordoza muscled his way into my building.”
“Everyone has a price. If you don’t intend to stay back, and the night shift chief is likely to make a fuss, we have a problem. Either she fills her pocket, or she’ll fill a body bag.”
I get a sick thrill every time I cut a thread and Two’s cheeks turn a darker shade of green. But I don’t tell him so. Instead, I set my scissors on my desk and tap my phone screen instead. “Phone. Call Estefan Cordoza.”
Two gulps uneasily. “What are you doing?”
Calling Estefan Cordoza.
I pick up my scissors again and go back to work, dragging a suture away from my knee, sliding the very tip of the scissors under, thensnipping.
“Chief Mayet.” Estefan’s smooth baritone voice carries across the line like we’ve done this a million times in the past. “I didn’t realize you knew my personal number.”
Checkmate.
“I walked out of a meeting to take this call, Chief. Is everything okay?”
“I’m calling to inform you the autopsy is complete and all samples have arrived at the lab. John Doe is ready for transportation.”
“Well…” Cordoza stops walking, stops breathing, even, and considers. “This is good news. I appreciate your fast work.”
“Great. So now you need to move him.”
Pained, Number-Two crushes his eye sockets with his palms.
“Move him, Chief?”
“Yes. You transported him here this morning. Now you need to transport him out again.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s an undocumented John Doe! Because you demanded discretion, but for every minute he remains in this building, we risk discovery. Because,” I exclaim, huffing. “Although I probably won’t get hit by a bus on the way home from work today, it’s possible I could be. And if I am, the new chief will find him, and your jig will be over. Come get your man, and while you’re here, take your guards, too. All four of them. They’re making everything smell like Axe body spray, and they’re creeping out my staff.”
“I don’t think you understand, Chief Mayet.” Cordoza is not a man accustomed to being dictated to. But he’s a man who knows emotional regulation. He knows politics and fake niceties for the sake of a business deal. “I have nowhere else to put him.”
