Page 47 of Secrets

“Ugh. Well, you’ll definitely need to whoop his ass next week. He had me so irritated.”

“I bet.” Pushing out a long breath, my head sinks deeper into the cushion. “Anything else interesting I missed?”

Jenna hesitates, and I can picture her chewing on her bottom lip—a nervous tell of hers. After another second, I pull the phone away from my ear and tap the button to switch the voice-only call to FaceTime, interest finally piqued. It takes her three rings before she accepts it.

When she appears, I can immediately tell by her hair in a high messy bun, the black tendrils falling along her face that’s covered in a less than smoothly applied minty mask, that this is a stress-related self-care moment.

She groans. “Why?”

I smile, crossing my legs to get cozy. “Because you suck at lying when I’m staring into your eyes.”

Her lips purse, albeit only slightly, courtesy of her face mask. “More like into my soul.”

“Spill.”

Jenna lets her head fall back before releasing a longer, somewhat more exasperated grumble. “Fine, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

I nod, my curiosity rising. “Go.”

“There were some badges talking about a rumor there’s an informant who knows about a cartel hotspot. Their captain said it wasn’t credible—I think he was just too scared to follow up on the validity—and told them to forget about it completely. Guess one of them got pissed and called up our office to give the tip instead. It went straight to your uncle, of course, but…” She pauses, her eyes creasing slightly in the corner as if she’s trying to wince.

“He also said it wasn’t credible.” I finish for her, already hating where this might be headed.

We haven’t discussed it since that night, but my uncle made it clear how this may bite us in the ass and how we would need to prepare for it.

Sure, the local police department can say it wasn’t a credible tip and knock it on us, but our agency…well, we can’t sweep things under the rug as easily. People will notice. They’ll get suspicious if we don’t check it out, credible or not.

A heavy dose of guilt plops into my stomach, making me nauseous. It seems the going theme this month is reminding me that I have fucked up so royally that not even my uncle can bail me out this time.

Guess it was only a matter of time.

Jenna nods, her face taking a more solemn turn. “Allegedly, the cartel already found the cop’s wife who reported it and cut out her tongue. She was taken to the hospital early this morning.”

My eyes squeeze shut, a deeply embedded needle twisting in my gut.

“Everything just feels so… I don’t know. It’s like we missed something.”

I nod my agreement even though I know she’s missed the part where my dumb ass got put in the back pocket of the cartel because I don’t do shit by the books. Nerves damn near shot to hell at this point, I ask what I don’t want to know, but need to. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It just feels like there’s something they aren’t telling us. I mean, the pieces aren’t adding up. Yeah, I get the mayor was shady, but I’m not buying that it was an overdose, especially when people rumored him to have made a deal with the cartel. Then, that same gang having complete control over half the state and yet none of the higher ups want to do anything about it. I understand the local cops not wanting their families involved, but when did that stop the FBI from doing investigations and getting arrests? From calling people who can come down and help. I just don’t get it. Especially for someone like Agent James, who is a hard ass for following protocol.”

My heart squeezes tight in my chest, guilt—the only emotion I seem capable of—infiltrating my bloodstream and spreads through my entire body. I have to find a way to fix this. If not for the agency’s sake, then for my uncle’s. He is a good man, an even better agent, and his sticking his neck out and putting himself in the line of fire is unfair. It’s wrong.

Chewing on my lip until the distinct taste of copper prompts me to let it go, I mull over Jenna’s words and what I could possibly do to even start to make things right. Before I can even grasp one idea, an incoming notification drops down in front of her face. A spike of adrenaline and flush of relief skitter through me when my eyes scan over the message.

Red

Hey. Are you busy?

“I gotta go, babe. But I wanna talk more later.”

Jenna rolls her eyes and mutters something about being whipped, but I’ve already jumped from the couch and grabbed my keys by the time I’ve noticed she’s hung up.

* * *

I makeit to Noxus in record time. Which, considering the sky just split open and is raining as though I need to be finding Noah instead, probably isn’t something I should brag about.

Windshield wipers set to max, I turn into the parking lot of Baudelaire’s and claim an empty spot right in the front. The strip, or what little I can see through the downpour, is completely void of any light, the only ounce of illumination coming from the glow of my high beams.

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