Page 20 of His Passerotta

I’m not either.

Bile rises, burning my esophagus, and I swallow it down.

Shit, maybe I’m both.

My phone rings, and I glance down at it to see Lorenzo’s contact flashing. I haven’t filled him in on the meeting yet, so it makes sense that he’s calling, but it still feels like an eerie coincidence.

I pick up my phone, deciding not to use the Bluetooth in case the girl can hear. “Hey.”

“Everything taken care of?”

I stop at a light and turn on my blinker, arbitrarily picking a street to turn on to. “Yes. The Russians should be satisfied.”

“Good. So that woman you gave a ride to… She said she worked at Freddy’s?”

“Yeah,” I say, absently glancing in the rearview.

“Did she give you the impression that she knew you?”

Not then. She sure as shit has now.

“No, why?”

“Today was her first day at La Divina, and she wasn’t lying about Freddy’s. She worked there for three years and was canned last month for stealing from the register. She also has a criminal record for grand theft auto, which she served two years for.”

My brow knits as I turn down another street. This keeps getting more and more weird.

“That doesn’t make sense. My manager does background checks. And I’m certain I’ve never seen her before today.”

“Her record is sealed, so it wouldn’t have shown up on a background check.”

That doesn’t explain why my manager didn’t know that she got canned. Is he even calling references?

I blink away the thought, turning onto another street. That’s the least of my problems right now.

“She could be no one, but I’m having someone follow her for a few days anyway. I don’t think I have to tell you to fire her…”

Fire her.

If he knew she was in my trunk right now, he’d expect much worse… So he can’t know. Not until I figure things out for myself.

“Consider it done. Let me know if you find anything else out.”

And good luck with your search.

“Sure thing. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

The call disconnects, and I toss my cell on the passenger seat. The knots in my stomach loosen but don’t fully unravel.

So, she’s a criminal. That’s … good. And bad. But mostly good.

It makes her lock-picking abilities make sense, and it eases my mind knowing she isn’t law enforcement or a reporter… She’s a thief. Hell, maybe that’s what she’s up to. Maybe she’s trying to rob me.

I let out a chuckle and relax into my seat.

She also wasn’t lying about working at La Divina. She didn’t lie to me about her name or working at Freddy’s.

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