“It turns out the Ramos have switched their port locations,” he informs her. “They no longer do business at the East Willow Port, they’ve moved all transports to Arncliffe Port. And I know for a fact that they have a shipment coming in at twelve o’clock tomorrow night.”
“And how concrete is this information, Giovanni?”
“You won’t find anything harder.”
Cressida’s lips press together. “If you’re lying-”
“I have no reason to.” Giovanni leans away from her, picking up his glass of water. His eyes meet mine over the rim as he takes a sip before he places the glass back on the table. “When you pull those birds, make sure their feathers are clean.”
Cressida lets out a humorless snort as she rises to her feet. “Of course,” she tells him. And then she’s leaving as quickly as she came.
I stare off after her, confused. I look back at Giovanni, finding him already watching me. “Who was that?” I ask.
“The FBI.”