“Is he crazy?” (Jess.)
“Your definition of crazy and my definition of crazy is not the same as Lee Nightingale’s definition of crazy.” (Raye.)
Lee was the founding director of Nightingale Investigations & Security (it was all in the name).
I’d met Lee.
I had not met Rocco whatever-his-last-name-was, but I was pretty sure, even knowing what I knew about Rocco, Lee would scare me more.
“Knox needs to press charges.” (Jess.)
My back shot straight.
“He’s not pressing charges. They’re going after that whole outfit.” (Raye.)
I felt every inch of my skin get tingly, and not in a good way.
“I’m gonna have a word with Eric about this shit.” (Jess, sounding ticked…and scared, and I was right there with her.)
“You do you, sister, but I’ll tell you, I had more than one with Cap, and they are not budging on this.” (Raye.)
“Knox should have never pulled that lunatic stunt. Nancy told me that Stella told her that Mace is beside himself. Knox broke the numero uno rule. Whether it’s personal shit that’s iffy or work shit that’s iffy, you do not go in alone.” (Jess.)
I felt so much pressure in my head, I was pretty certain it was going to explode.
He went in alone?
I thought…
No, I assumed since they knew who shot Knox, it was because he’d had someone with him.
I had no idea he went into whatever this nightmare was alone.
Alone!
Even the Angels, who were self-taught at this avenging stuff, knew better than to pull a stunt like that.
“Fortunately, he’s sidelined for the next six to eight weeks while he recovers. His penance for doing something that boneheaded.” (Raye.)
“But…why would he do it in the first place?” (Jess.)
Good question! (Me.)
“He said he was protecting them. I get it, he doesn’t want them on these people’s radar. He doesn’t want any beefs. I could see he thought this was his deal and he had to handle it himself. It was still a faulty play.” (Raye.)
“You got that right, sister.” (Jess.)
And she did have it right! (Me.)
I felt eyes on me, turned and saw Lucia, our supremely talented chef, staring at me with brows raised.
Lucia was quiet, kept to herself and her world of herbs, spices, salt, fat, acid and heat, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t speak, and I didn’t need her narcing about my eavesdropping.
So I put a finger to my lips, retreated a few steps, then called loudly, “Later, Lucia,” as I resumed my stroll to the staff room.
She rolled her eyes.
“Yo, bitches,” I said when I entered, totes proud of myself it came out calm and easy and not like I felt.
