I turned from Maria Elena to Ella, understanding instantly who wielded the power to deal with me and who did not. “Ms. Diaz.”
“Mr. Colter,” she said, nodding. “Let me be clear.”
I stayed quiet.
“Yesterday, there was an attack on Mr. Suárez, so changes had to be made in consideration of the fact.”
“Meaning, who would stay there with him and who would come talk to me.”
“Precisely.”
We had been paired together a lot in school, for the simple reason that our surnames fell close in the alphabet. We had four years of shared experiences, and at one time, I had been adept at reading her face. I still was. The sneer of contempt on her lips, that she was trying to look bored, disaffected, failed to hide that, underneath it all, I saw fear.
Ella Guzman was terrified.
“Let me tell you how this is going to go, Mr. Colter,” she informed me, leaning forward. “We have planes that you will––”
“You know, it’s funny,” I said, leaning back, yawning. “So much has been changing for me lately that sometimes the ground doesn’t feel solid under my feet.”
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me.
“Uh, Esca,” Lund said in my ear. “Did you maybe want to let the person who works for the drug kingpin finish her sentence?” he said tritely. “I thought someone told me that you knew what you were doing, but––”
“It’s important to have people to depend on, don’t you agree?” I asked her.
She nodded.
“It’s funny, but I’m reminded of this professor I had in college…”
“Uh, Dal, could you jump in there? I think Esca’s out where the buses don’t run.”
But Dallas, standing near the couch where I was sitting, remained silent.
“He taught this communication class, and one time he gave us an exercise to come up with creative ways to signal for help in a crisis situation, but the catch was that we had to do it without tipping our hand. I think it was meant to teach us the art of subtle communication or something.”
“Sounds simple enough.”
“What is happening right now?” Lund asked in my ear.
“The caveat was,” I said, smiling at her, “that the words we used had to be menu items, of all things. That way no one else could guess at the outcome.”
She squinted. “Now it just sounds overly complicated.”
“Well, that was the professor, he was a bit of a nightmare, but it turned out that only my partner and I were successful. Do you know why?”
“No, but I get the feeling you’re about to tell me.”
The eyeroll was a nice touch.
“Succotash.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“My partner said she liked succotash. Who the hell confesses to liking succotash unless it’s under duress?”
“Jesus Christ,” Lund whispered.
“Mr. Colter, while I appreciate you sharing a bit of yourself with me, I wonder if we might turn our attention to the situation at––”
“So you see, the partners were supposed to be able to communicate in such a way that they could read a situation even if what was being said didn’t make sense.”
“Dallas, what the hell is going on in there?” Lund barked.
And I knew what he wanted. He wanted Dallas to step away and pretend to get on his phone so they could talk. The fact that Dallas did not, sent a clear message. He was going with his gut and trusting me.
“Okay, Esca, you win,” Lund said forlornly, his resigned sigh letting me know there would be no more outbursts from him.
“That may be the most ridiculous story I’ve ever been forced to endure,” she said icily.
“No, it’s not,” I answered Ella, glancing around at the others in the room.
“Yes, it is. Blurting out various food items is a ridiculous exercise.”
“That’s why some students went with entirely insane dishes that would never even appear on a menu, like entrails and cornbread, or––”
“Or haggis with a side of slaw,” she gasped.
I turned to Dallas. “We’re done here.”
Instantly, he pulled his gun, roaring out the command, “Everyone down!”
“Move!” Lund yelled in my ear.
Agents came rushing in from various directions, and the men who had come in with Ella, even armed, had no chance to draw their weapons before they were surrounded.
“Ryder, hit the jammer and get anyone not actively detaining Suárez’s people outside!” Dallas barked out the order.
I stood as Maria Elena pulled a gun from her purse, but there was a female agent on her so fast she didn’t even have time to point it, let alone fire.
I leapt across the coffee table, and the second I dropped down on the other side, Ella was on me, arms around my neck, sobbing, shaking so hard that it was scary. It was like every drop of fear and tension was trying to escape from her body at the same time.
“Croy—tell me you’re not with the FBI,” she said when she could finally speak.
“I’m not, but my partner is.” She tried to tear free of my arms then, but I held tight. “Ella. Ella, look at me.”