I don’t normally let strange men whisk me away, but I don’t want to stay here with an enraged Agent Huntley.
I place my hand in Rio’s as I gather my effects. He doesn’t let us stick around to make sure his orders are followed. We’re down the hall and in the elevator before I can utter a single word.
“Do I know you?” I ask, disrupting the stillness.
“Not yet,” he mutters without looking at me.
Rio Flores leads me across the lobby and into the cold at a brisk pace. He doesn’t slow down until we approach a Honda Civic idling at the curb with another strange man in the driver’s seat.
I skid to a stop a few feet away. “This is as far as I go. I’m not going anywhere with you until I get some answers.”
Rio spins to me and rolls his eyes at me. “Rio Flores. Attorney at law. Nice to meet you.”
“And who’s he?” I ask, pointing to the newcomer.
I don’t notice that the passenger window of the car is rolled down until the driver leans across the center console to answer my question. “NYPD Detective Zane Kingston. I’m with the tenth precinct.” He flashes his badge at me.
Crossing my arms, I inspect both men closely.
Rio sighs, annoyed, and pulls something out of the inside pocket of his suit. “Here.” He hands me something with a familiar weight and texture. “You can hold on to this. Zane and I are going to give you a ride home. You can sit in the backseat, and if at any time you feel unsafe, you can slit our throats.”
“Speak for yourself,” Zane contradicts.
Did he really just hand me a knife?
“Fine.” I stomp around him, opening the rear door and sliding into the backseat.
Zane makes eye contact with me via the rearview mirror. “Please don’t destroy my car. It’s not kind to screw someone who’s doing you a favor.”
These are very strange men…
Rio joins us in the car, sitting in the passenger seat. “Let’s go.”
As soon as we merge into the flow of traffic, I jump right in. “Who are you guys? How did you know I was with the FBI? How do you know Agent Huntley? I can’t pay you. I’m a barista. I’m not exactly rollin’ in the dough. And?—”
Zane cuts me off. “I thought we covered that. Zane and Rio. Police and a lawyer. Do you have short-term memory loss or something?”
“No one likes a smart Alec,” I shoot back.
Rio shifts in his seat to face me. “Our friend is with the FBI. He texted me when he saw Travis bring you in. Travis isn’t known for being a teddy bear, and our friend knows you had nothing to do with the current or past murders.”
“How would he know that?” I furrow my brows.
Rio waves me off. “That’s not important. And don’t worry about payment. I always have a client or two that I take on pro bono.”
I lean back in the seat and fold my arms, the knife still in my grip. “So, what are you two? My fairy godmothers?”
Zane scoffs. “That’s a first.”
“I think I’d look good with a pair of wings.” Rio shrugs.
Zane tilts his head to the side as he continues to focus on the road. “I don’t know if I could pull off waving around a sparkly wand.”
“What’re you talking about? Sparkles could be your signature look,” Rio argues.
This is the most bizarre situation I’ve ever been in.
First, I’m dragged away by the FBI, then a strange man claims to be my lawyer and gets me out of there. And now, I’m getting a ride home with a second stranger while he and the first discuss dressing up as fairies.
