“Where were you last night? Don’t bullshit me and don’t make me fight you.”
“I was working out,” Thiago replies. “I took a run through the woods. Unless some camera picked me up, I can’t verify it.”
I glance at Lorenzo.
“I was at the strip club getting a lap dance. I don’t think you have to guess what I did next or what I was doing for the rest of the night. The cameras at the door of the club would have probably picked me up. There are no cameras inside.”
I don’t answer either of them because there are ways around both alibis.
The fucking thing about surveillance is that you can’t always keep tabs on people. Even with Eric’s high-tech setup, we can’t always do it. If there’s nothing to track, there’s nothing to track, and that’s when you get screwed.
“You are all to report to me on the fucking hour. That’s what I want until this matter is resolved. Whatever evidence you have to support your claims of where you were last night is to be sent to me before close of business today. You are also to have your electronic fobs with you at all times.” I make a point of looking at each of them. Those fobs have trackers in them and were originally designed for when they went on our more illicit jobs. They’d use them in case of trouble. “If you can’t stick to those rules, you no longer have a fucking job with me.”
It doesn’t matter what my heart tells me, my fucking brain is scrambled.
“Do you all understand me?” I demand.
“Yes, Boss,” Marcus replies, but I don’t miss the way he narrows his eyes in suspicion and rage as he looks at Thiago and Lorenzo.
Yes, my friend. I suspect them, too, but I’m not sure about you either.
I back out of the room. Cristiano follows, catching up to me before I turn down the corridor. He rests a hand on my shoulder, stopping me.
I meet his gaze, his serious yet understanding eyes, and I square my jaw.
“Take a few days off, Alejandro. You need to go home and cool off.”
“You know I can’t do either.”
“You need to. You’re no good to anyone, including yourself, when you get worked up like this. Trust me.” He hardens his gaze.
“This is bullshit, Cristiano. All of it.”
“I know. I feel the same, but one of us has a one-year-old daughter to worry about. So, I’ll handle things for the next few days. I’ll deal with whatever arrangements need to be made for Carlos, too.”
“You shouldn’t have to do that by yourself.”
“We can’t think like that right now. His death means trouble is nigh on exploding. What I can’t do by myself is deal with that shit when it hits the fucking fan. That’s why I need you to cool off. You can always call me if something happens or if you get some ideas.”
He’s right. I do need to calm the fuck down. “Alright. Check in with me later.”
“Of course.”
I don’t go home.I can’t. I don’t think I can face Lucia yet. Instead, I ask Estelle to look after Mia and head to the woods I used to go to as a child.
I used to come here a lot when I needed to think. I made myself scarce over the years because the place reminded me too much of Vanessa. My childhood saw me here with her nearly as much as the beach did.
Today, I need the clarity I always got when I went on one of my walkabouts.
If she were here, she’d tell me to pick things apart then put them back together and start working my way through the easiest problem. So, I do that.
When I pick things apart and think of what can be considered easy in this mess, I think of all Bernardo told me about Eduardo, El Diablo, and this half-brother of mine.
I’ve been searching Eduardo’s stuff for weeks, but even though I haven’t found anything, I know from Bernardo’s confession there’s something to be found.
It’s just a matter of where to find it. Where the fuck did Eduardo put this evidence of his?
I’m still wondering how he came to know what he did. I figured he must have found out one of our dead relatives wasn’t really dead and started looking into it.