“I wish I could,” Mike said. He sounded sincere.
I glanced up at his wall of monitors. “Ask for the link and login credentials to his surveillance footage.” You did as I instructed, and Mike readily recited them while I jotted down the information.
“Could you look out for him?” you asked. “As a favor to me?”
“Yes. Anything for you, Vincent.” Mike’s gaze fixated on you as if he were one of your cats.
“That’s all I’ve got,” I said, hoping the footage would be more productive than this conversation.
Just as you were about to let go of Mike’s hand, he spoke again. “There’s something I should tell you, Vincent.”
My awareness clicked into high alert. Your head inclined, curious.
“You can tell meanything, Mike,” you cooed and laid your free hand on his shoulder.
“There’s a man looking for you. He said you might visit me. That you might come withhim.” Mike’s eyes flashed toward me for a split-second before seeking your liquid gaze again.
“Who’s the man?” I demanded, unable to keep the anger out of my voice. Mike flinched.
“He didn’t tell me his name.” Mike appealed to your sympathies.
“What did he look like?” I growled.
“He was…” Mike drifted off, then glanced around as if disoriented. It was maddening.
You rubbed his hand and uttered soothing words. “It’s okay, Mike. We’re not mad at you. Take your time. See if you can describe him to me. Anything would help.”
He nodded, gaining confidence. You were far more patient than I, because all I wanted was to drive my dagger into his gut and relieve him of his intestines.
“He looked like…” Mike’s eyebrows drew together in deep concentration. “I’m sorry, Vincent. I can’t remember.”
“What does he want?” I asked, growing increasingly alarmed by Mike’s admission and damnable lack of information.
“I don’t know, but he said if I can help him find you, I’d be rewarded.”
“Rewarded how?” I asked.
“The club needs a new roof. It’s a safety hazard.”
I believed Mike would sell us out for a few thousand dollars, which made the threat even more real.
“Tell me,” you said with admirable calm. “Now that you’ve seen me in person, do I look any different to you?”
Mike studied you for a moment and said, “Your hair. It was black in the photograph.”
“Can you remember what I was wearing?” A clever question. If we knew the origin of the picture, we might have a better chance of determining the person who took it.
“You were wearing a white shirt and blue pants.” He motioned to his own neck, “And a tie.”
“My school uniform,” you said to me. Had they found you in Miami and followed us here?
You asked a few more questions about your pursuer, but Mike was out of answers. I determined our best option was to abandon this endeavor altogether.
“We were never here,”I told him.
“You were never here,” Mike agreed, eyes going blank.
“Let’s go.” I grabbed your hand and pulled you out of Mike’s office, making sure to enthrall the man in the floral shirt and the bartender on our way out. With my access to Mike’s surveillance, I’d erase the footage to hide our tracks.
