I had no clue what he was talking about.
At least, I didn’t until he turned the computer to show me.
I narrowed my eyes.
“That’s the governor,” I said stupidly.
Bruno winced. “I know.”
My mouth fell open. “Are you trying to tell me that the governor of the damn state has something to do with this child trafficking ring?”
Bruno looked sick to his stomach as he pulled out his phone.
“Hunt,” he said into the silence. “Look at the computer. Tell me what you think of it.”
There was a long pause and then Bruno said, “The man that was driving the first van that got away. Looked like an older version of this guy.”
“He was on the television at the gas pump this morning,” I murmured as I thought back to how Bruno would’ve come up with this correlation between the two men. “The governor. He’s running for reelection.”
A grim look crossed Bruno’s face. “We know.”
I shivered at the look on his face.
He wasn’t very happy with that fact, either.
Stomach tumbling, I gathered up my coffee and pastry, no longer having an appetite whatsoever, and walked toward the trash can.
I smiled at the young barista when she noticed me throwing away my food. “It’s not you. It’s me. I thought that I wanted a pastry and coffee, but my stomach is all nerves.” I looked over my shoulder at Bruno.
The barista looked in the same direction, and she drew in a deep breath.
“Where did he come from?” she whispered. “Wowza.”
I wondered how she could miss a man the size of Bruno coming in the door. But then I got to thinking about how it was likely nobody was as aware of the man like I was.
If Bruno didn’t want to be seen, he wasn’t.
I’d noticed it with other people, too.
Like today with the gas station attendant. He must’ve missed Bruno coming inside, because when we were checking out, Bruno had walked up and placed his stuff on the counter. As he did, the attendant had reached for something under the counter as if he thought he might need it.
“He walked in the door like I did about twenty minutes behind me,” I told her, not trying to sound pissy but coming off that way anyway.
The barista’s eyes came to me, and she winced. “He your man?”
I stared her down as the words came from my lips. “Of course, he’s my man. Who else’s would he be?”
I meant it as ‘there was nobody else in the damn building’ not ‘nobody else could handle him but me.’
She could take it whatever way she wanted.
I didn’t care.
Turning my back on her, I headed back to the table where Bruno was now sitting and staring at me as I walked back toward him.
I frowned. “What?”
He shook his head, gathered up the computer, then jerked his chin toward the side door that led out into the back patio area.