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“We appreciate that, thank you.” Cole shot Paul a look. “All right, now that we got that cleared up?—”
“Actually,” I stopped him, “I have a question.”
“Of course.” Cole waved for me to go on.
I twisted my chair to face Chili, who took a second to look up from behind his laptop. “Chili, you mentioned that you were good friends with Eric Noah.”
I caught Cole give him a quick look, but Chili kept his eyes on me. What was that? Did Cole not know that? No way, Cole knows everything. “I am.”
“‘I am’ would imply present tense, as in he’s still alive.” I raised a brow at him.
“I, ah, was friends with him,” he reworded.
“What was that?” I kept my eyes glued to his. “You hesitated before you answered.”
“It hasn’t been that long since Eric was killed. Sometimes, I slip.”
I chuckled softly. “You guys don’t slip.”
“Did you have another question, Nicole?” Chili’s voice was cool. I could tell he wanted to slam the door closed on the topic. I had a pretty good idea that Eric Noah was alive, and for whatever reason, they didn’t want it out there. I wondered if they were biding their time to take him out. As a reporter—well, ex-reporter—I understood the ‘need to know’ principle. On the other hand, I was curious.
I squinted at him. “I find it strange that someone like you would be friends with someone as evil as Eric Noah.”
“Is that your question?” I could tell he wasn’t happy with me grilling him.
“No.” I changed directions slightly. “Were the girls I met in the truck taken through the Tunnel of Hell?”
“Yes.”
“So that tunnel is still a working operation?”
“Yes, but you know how it works. They’re returned to the US.” He licked his lips, and I nodded. “Is there anything else?”
I decided to let him loose and backed off. “No, I think I got all I needed for now.”
“Great.” He forced a smile and went back to the safety of his computer.
Cole tapped his pen on the table. I knew he’d watched our conversation closely. Very closely. I wondered what was going on in his head. “All right, we don’t have much time. I have something I want to ask.”
“I’m listening.”
“You said you had a lead on a big story, something to do with Bruno and his mother?”
“Yes.”
“Would you be willing to share the details? Give us a nutshell version?”
I shifted in my seat while I thought about everything I’d put together over the years. “Yes, okay, I can do that. It’s a lot, but I’ll try to give you my best elevator pitch.” I closed my eyes briefly.
“Whatever you can do.” Cole smiled.
“About two years into my job, I met Sully Sanchez. I went about gaining his trust, and he eventually introduced me to Bruno Perez. A reporter’s dream, to get a source like that, right?” I tried to smile and failed. “Trouble was, Bruno decided he wanted me for himself.” I licked my lips and took a breath. “He’s a scary man, but I played the game.” I paused to take another breath. “He likes to show off and flex his power, but when I didn’t react the way he wanted, he changed his tactics and let me see the ugly side of what he's capable of.” I moved my hands to my lap and pressed them hard together. “Because I didn't run, he got comfortable with me being around and relaxed a bit, and that was when I started to see things most wouldn’t.”
“Like, what kind of things?” Paul’s voice was tightly controlled, and I refused to glance at him.
“Like how he has American contacts. I got a glimpse over his shoulder once when he got a call, and I saw it was just a letter. When he answered, he stepped away so I couldn’t hear, but when he finished his conversation, I distinctly heard him say ‘stupid American.’ One night he had too much to drink and left his phone on the counter. I tried to figure it out, but with only their initial, it was impossible to know who they were.”
“Our numbers are programmed the same way in yours,” Cole challenged.
