Graciella examined her cache of weapons. Now she just needed a ride.
“How far’s your car from here?” she asked the man with the facial tattoos.
“Around the block.”
“Good. You’re my driver now. Get up.”
After knocking out the bearded guy, she followed behind her new driver, keeping a gun trained on him. It was a pleasant surprise to find he drove an old El Camino.
They drove to the heart of the city. She did her research on Manuel Viola and continually checked in on Viko with her new cell phone. She was so close to finding the cure and ending this nightmare she could taste it.
“Who runs this town?” she asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“If you want to be a smart ass, I won’t think twice about cutting off your dick. I do it all the fucking time. It’s kind of my thing.”
He believed her. Of course, it wasn’t entirely a lie.
“Are you talking about the motorcycle club or the cartel?”
“Cartel.”
“Renzo Bianchi controls everything around here from real estate to people. You cross him, you disappear.”
“And you work for him?”
“Everyone works for him in one way or another.”
She told him the name of the restaurant she wanted, and when he pulled up out front, she stepped out and waved him off. This was Manuel’s favorite restaurant, and she knew there was a high likelihood he was inside. She’d seen pics of him online, so now it was time for her to play her role.
Viko and Boss were still a good half-hour away. She couldn’t wait. It was time to grasp the opportunity.
Graciella pulled her hair to one side. Normally, when she seduced a man, her makeup was on point and her outfit would make him drool. Today, she’d improvise and use what she had.
Once inside the lavish lobby of the restaurant, she scanned the interior for Manuel. She ignored the hostess, hoping she was right about coming here. When she saw tattoo face and the bearded guy walking up the steps of the restaurant, she cursed under her breath and walked into the heart of the restaurant. The hostess called out to her, but she walked faster, weaving between tables and looking for her mark.
When she caught sight of Manuel, she fought the onslaught of emotions that rushed to the surface from the relief of finding him. This guy had paid the scientist to create more tainted drugs. He had the cure, the only way to end all this death.
He was at a large round table with a bunch of upscale guests. She was only after him, but then she recognized someone else at the table—Renzo Bianchi. Why was Manuel having a meal with the leader of the local cartel if he supposedly wanted to take over? He’d already gone against Viko. Leaders in the underground were never on friendly terms. Trust and comradery weren’t the norm, and she doubted it was any different here.
It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense anymore.
Graciella found the ladies’ room and freshened up. Her leather outfit was still daring enough to garner attention. If she could avoid those pricks from the alleyway, she may be able to get Manuel alone long enough to find out where he kept the cure. She found a little torture could go a long way in these situations.
She took a deep breath and stepped out of the hallway. Graciella sauntered by the men’s table, doing a double-take before leaning over in front of Manuel. “Manuel, is that you?”
He smiled and the other men at the table approved. “Sorry, I can’t recall your name,” he said.
Graciella pouted. “That’s disappointing. I thought for sure you’d remember me.” She ran the tip of her finger along his shoulder.
“Of course,” he said. “You should join us.”
Everyone began scooting over in an attempt to welcome her to the table, but she whispered in Manuel’s ear. “Not here. Just the two of us.”
It couldn’t have been going better when she noticed the two men from the alley peering in the restaurant, looking for their petty revenge. She was getting over her head, and her nerves were ramping up.
“Tell me when,” he said.
“Can I talk to you alone in the hallway for just a minute?” she asked, biting her lower lip for effect. He immediately agreed. She needed to get out of the seating area before she was noticed and her cover blown. Her heart raced.
He followed her back to the hallway near the bathrooms, and just before she turned the corner, she made eye contact with tattoo face. Her entire body tensed. It was only a matter of time now until this all blew up in her face. She had to move fast.
“What was your name again, angel?”
He cupped her face, but she never allowed herself to flinch when on the job. Everything was an act, and she’d perfected the art of tuning out reality to avoid fracturing down the middle.