Patricia let out an exasperated little huff. “Who did you sell it to?”
His eyes flickered to Joe and Ed, assessing, but the smile stayed in place. “I cannot remember, but I will look up the information for you.” He paused. “For a price.”
“Of course,” Patricia said.
Joe’s back was tingling now. He glanced behind him, but the alley was clear. He noticed that Ed was staring at the skyline above them, checking for any sign of trouble. One of the sentries pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and tapped out a short text. Then he went back to lazing against the wall. If Joe hadn’t been trained, if his instincts weren’t screaming at him, he would have thought nothing of the act. But he was trained and his instincts were screaming—they were telling him to get out of there. Fast.
“One moment, please.” Juan Pablo disappeared into the shop.
“I don’t like this,” Joe said to Ed. “We need to get out of here. This is a bottleneck. We’re trapped and there isn’t even any cover.”
A slight scuffling noise behind him made Joe turn. Men. Coming up the alley. Ed followed his gaze. The men were acting casual. Sauntering, almost.
“Into the store,” Ed said.
It was their only option. “Go. Now.” Joe urged them forward.
One of the sentries blocked their path.
“No persons in store.” He held up a hand to stop them.
The other sentry leaned off the wall, suddenly alert.
Decision time. Adrenalin raced through Joe. Trust his instincts or do as he was told. At lightning speed, he assessed the smaller man. No weapon. Joe shot out a punch and caught the man before he fell to the ground.
“Inside!” Joe barked low. “Now!”
The men behind them hadn’t yet realised what had happened, and Ed was blocking the other sentry’s view.
Patricia gasped as the women rushed into the shop.
“They’re still at the end of the alley,” Ed said. “I can take out the other sentry.”
“Do it.”
Ed turned to the other guy, still blocking his view of Joe, allowing him to lower the man in his hold to the steps, arranging him as though he was sitting. It would buy him seconds at best. There was a grunt. Joe looked over to see Ed lowering his sentry to a spot behind the baskets. It was the best they could do.
“Inside,” Joe ordered, and they hurried into the shop.
Juan Pablo was pretending to go through a handwritten ledger, line by line, when there was a laptop sitting on his desk. He was killing time, stalling them until his men made it to the shop. Joe felt a white-hot rage rush through him, focusing his mind, honing his actions. He grabbed the man around his throat and held him against the counter, bending him back until he lost his balance and the edge bit into him.
“Call off your men.” He squeezed his throat. “Now.”
“¡No es posible!” Juan Pablo croaked.
“Yeah, it’s possible. You called them. You can call them off.” Joe shook him hard, making him splutter and choke. Juan Pablo clawed at Joe’s grip, trying to prise it from his throat.
A soft hand curled around Joe’s forearm. He glanced down to see Julia peering up at him, and was relieved to see she wasn’t afraid of him—or his actions.
“Maybe he’d be able to talk if you loosened your grip.”
“Maybe,” Joe said. “But I’d like to deprive him of air a little longer. In my experience, that motivates a man. Take his laptop, phone, any other records you can find. We don’t have long before someone arrives.”
She nodded and rushed to do what he said.
“Joe,” Ed said from his position at the door, “they’re getting closer.”
“How many?”