“That’s your phone, Mayet. It’s Cordoza.”
“I don’t know where my phone is!?” She bounds off my lap and spins in a panicked circle. “Where’s my bag? Where’s my stuff?”
“I’ve got my phone,” Cato declares, stalking around the counter and placing it down beside Tim’s. “Can you send the call through to my phone?”
“Yeah, I can…” Sophtaps-taps-tapsat her computer keyboard. Then, like fuckin’ magic, Cato’s screen illuminates and Cordoza’s name flashes for attention. “Answer it, Mayet. Play along. See what the hell he wants.”
“On speaker,” Felix snaps. “We all wanna hear.”
“Everyone needs to shut the hell up,” Sophia demands. “He pulled you and Archer apart for a reason, Mayet. He’ll wanna know his efforts achieved something. Take the call, see what he wants, and then we’ll proceed.”
Minka’s eyes come to mine, her cheeks, too fucking pale already, somehow drain whiter. Her jaw trembles, and her hands shake.
I reach across and hook my arm around her hips, dragging her forward and stopping only when her chest clashes against mine.
“I’m right here.” I pinch her chin between my finger and thumb. “I’m not going anywhere, no matter what.”
“I’m getting kinda anxious over here!” Felix snarls. “Excuse me. Hi!? Answer the fucking phone.”
Swallowing, Minka sweeps up the device and swipes with a fast slide of her thumb, then she sets the call on speaker and exhales a shaking, aching breath. “Mr. Cordoza?” She closes her eyes, tilting her head back until her face is pointed to the ceiling. “This is Chief Mayet.”
“Chief Mayet.” The prick. The smug, life-ending, cruel bastard speaks with a smile in his voice. “How are you?”
“I-I’m well.” She swallows again to combat the croak in her words. “And you?”
“I’m well enough. Thank you for asking.” He settles back in a chair, the frame groaning under his weight, and when theunmistakable click of a cigarette lighter plays through the line, he noisily inhales and hums his appreciation.
Stunned, I swing my eyes to Tim’s.
“I know you’re a busy woman, Chief. I, too, have an extensive list of things I must get through, so I’m going to cut to the chase. I’m inviting you to dinner.”
Minka’s gaze swings wildly back to mine. “Dinner?”
“Tomorrow night. I understand this is late notice, and I know traveling across the country is no easy feat, but I insist. There are things I wish to discuss as a matter of urgency. Bring Doctor Emeri, too.”
With a quiet growl, Tim sweeps Aubree clear off her seat, stuffing her behind his back and shaking his head.
“D-doctor Emeri?” Minka stutters. “Sir? Are you asking for medical examiners, or?—”
“I’m asking for Minka Mayet and Aubree Emeri. Your education and vocation are mildly relevant.”
“Mr. Cordoza, sir?—”
“I’m not asking,” he growls. “I’ll send a plane in the morning. Your safety while in my city is guaranteed, so you can assure Timothy the Third he needn’t fret. I apologize for my terseness, Chief, but time is limited.”
“But—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Without another word, he kills the call and leaves us in a world of complete and utter silence.
For a second, anyway.
Then Tim explodes.
“Absolutely fucking not!” He brings Aubree around, his furious grip marking her arms. “No. I’m not sending you toNew York to dine with the fucking don, not after this shit he’s pulled with Minka and Archer.”
“But he?—”
