As soon as I hear Thomas making his way back downstairs, I slide out of the bed and creep through the door. There is no way in hell I’m about to miss what’s going on.
Once Thomas is back in front of Mateo, he motions him to sit down in one of the chairs.
Are they friends? What is going on?
So this is why he wasn’t worried about me making noise in the convent or taking Ethan and Teeny out of here. He knew there was NO ONE out there trying to kill us.
I peek through a gap in the balcony floor and watch them. Mateo’s posture might be relaxed but his face tells a different story.
Whatever they are, I don’t think they’re friends.
“So tell me, where are they now?” Thomas asks Mateo.
“At a private residence in Baton Rouge. Records show the house belongs to a Dr. Patrick Alexander.”
Oh, shit. He knows where they are.
“And the boy’s injuries?”
“He hasn’t left the house. I’m assuming if the doctor thinks his condition is serious, he’d get him to a hospital.”
And there’s a drastic change in Thomas’s personality. He looks much more like the man I knew in Natchitoches when he was trying to gain my trust as a federal agent. From what I can tell, he even seems to be smiling.
Not only is he a sociopath, he must have multiple personalities. Or is this part of the game? Is he making Mateo feel comfortable just like he did with me in Natchitoches?
“And why exactly did you shoot him? That wasn’t part of the plan—you were just supposed to locate them. I wanted them back unharmed.”
Mateo comes halfway out of his chair when he answers, “That son of a bitch kicked me! Twice. And then he rushed me. He’s lucky I didn’t pop him in the head.”
“No, you were the only one popped in the head,” Thomas says with a chuckle.
He actually chuckled.
Mateo doesn’t crack a smile, just pulls his hair back showing a row of stitches. “When this is over, I intend to repay the compliment.”
I almost vomit.
“They should have never had that much time on the outside,” Thomas says. He looks back to the balcony and I press myself farther into the wall.
“You shouldn’t have lost them. And if you would have put a tracker on them that was easy to follow, I would have found them a helluva lot sooner.”
Tracker? He put a tracker on us? This was a big mistake. I knew something else was going on, but this is so much worse than I thought!
Thomas stiffens. “I wouldn’t have lost them if it wasn’t for you. I told you not to come to Ursuline.”
“And I told you before, be careful how you talk to me,” Mateo replies. “I was coming here, and it’s hard to do that without passing the convent. I stopped to see if you needed help when I saw the crowd.”
We’re close to Ursuline. Really close.
“Anna made a spectacle of herself. The rumors worked against me. And Tyler freaked out like a five-year-old girl. I could have beat him to a pulp for being so stupid.”
“How’d you get them back?”
“Anna called Ty. Apparently the lovesick bastard kept the same number just in case she called. It’s almost pathetic but at least it worked out for us.”
Mateo stands up and pulls a package out of his pocket. “I retraced their steps to a pawnshop. Once I made it clear I wasn’t leaving until I got what they pawned, the greaseball who owns the place finally turned it over. This is how they had the money for a hotel room. And by the way, that tracker only told me they were in the building…It didn’t give me a read on the room.”
Thomas opens the package and pulls out the letters, picture frame, and the pocket watch. “What is this?”
