2
RAVEN
“Yes,”he says, making a U-turn and heading back.
I move my eyes to the street.
Bright lights glow over the avenue, highlighting the elegant buildings and luxuriant vegetation.
“We’re going back to the hotel,” he announces, cryptic when his phone vibrates in the cupholder.
“Answer it,” he says.
I look at him, puzzled, while the ringing continues.
“Answer it.”
I glance at the name flashing across the screen.
“It’s a number from New York.”
“Go ahead, baby.”
I don’t have time to think about this.
Is it good? Is it bad? Is this a sign of trust? Am I his secretary?
“Yes?” I say mellowly.
“Uh…”
The male voice at the other end of the line stalls.
“Is this Francisco Barreto’s cell phone?”
“Yes, it is. What is this in regards to?”
“May I speak to him? It’s an important matter.”
I hand it to Francisco just as he veers the car onto a different road, the hotel looming in the distance.
“It’s for you, and it’s urgent,” I say.
He takes his phone from my hand.
“Who is this?” he asks, not a muscle shifting on his face.
I wait.
“Uh-huh…” he murmurs. “What happened?”
For the second time this evening, I get acquainted with the steady, emotionless voice he only employs when he discusses official business.
“Have they specifically targeted my apartment?” he asks.
My eyebrows flick up, my focus sharpening.
“What do you mean, a security breach? Was it for the entire building? My floor? My place?”