Page 98 of Faded Gray Lines
“Yeah.”
Digging his fingers into Mateo’s shoulder, he spun him around, slamming his cheek against the wall. I watched in horror as the officer pulled out a set of metal handcuffs and locked his arms behind his back. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Hector Diaz. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law...”
The rest of his words were drowned out by Mateo’s shouts. Still in shock, I didn’t understand what was happening until one of the other officers headed straight for me. Instinctively, I backed up, stumbling as my feet tangled in the shards of broken ceramic littering the floor. His hands reached for me, and before I crashed into the wall, his much larger body pressed against mine.
“Get your fucking hands off her!” Mateo roared, fighting furiously as they shoved him face down on the kitchen table.
As if in slow motion, I detached from the horror unfolding around me. Taking a figurative step to the side, I watched everything happening as if I were an invisible spectator in the destruction of my life. I heard Mateo plead for them to let me go, but nothing emotional registered. I saw the officers click the handcuffs around my wrists and pull me away from the wall but felt nothing. It wasn’t until a looming shadow stood over me that everything vibrated, igniting life back into me.
I stared up at him. His salt and pepper hair was extra messy today, as if he’d spent all night pulling his stubby fingers through it.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.
“He’s a murderer, Leighton.” Alex shook his head and let out a disappointed breath. “I thought I warned you to stay away from him?”
Murderer? What the hell was he talking about? A week’s worth of conversations raced through my mind as I tried to come up with any reason Alex would have to pull something like this. I wasn’t blind to who he was, but all his indiscretions were concealed cartel dealings.
Except the one he disclosed to me.
“Did you say Hector is dead?”
“You sound shocked.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I didn’t know anything about the man, much less that he was dead.”
“Someone’s cleaning up behind you, Leighton. Well, except for Hector, I had to take care of that particular mess.”
“No,” I yelled, launching myself toward him while two guards pulled me back. “You can’t arrest someone without a body!”
Mateo jerked his head off the table, his eyes widening. “Leighton, don’t say anything else.”
“No, I’m curious, Leighton,” Alex probed, his forehead crinkling. “Why can’t we arrest Cortes? Have we got something wrong?”
Hell yes, you do.
“They got rid of the body. You can’t arrest him if there’s no body.”
The entire townhouse went silent, and out of the corner of my eye, I watched Mateo close his eyes and collapse against the table.
A slow smirk crawled across Alex’s face. “Thank you, Leighton. That’s all I needed.”
* * *
Closing the door to the interrogation room behind him, Alex placed a paper cup of water in front of me before taking a seat across the table. Staring at it out of the corner of my eye, I backhanded it, sending the cup flying.
“Now that was rude,” Alex noted, staring over my shoulder.
He’d kept me waiting in this room for over three hours while I went stir-crazy worrying what was happening down the hall. I didn’t give a shit what he thought.
“Why are you doing this to Mateo?”
“Why not?” He shrugged casually. “I asked you to get me shit on the Carreras and instead of sharing information with me, you decided to share your bed with them. Can you blame me for taking matters into my own hands?”
“How did you know about Hector Diaz?”
He smiled again. Pulling a stack of papers from his lap, he spread them out in front of me. Giving them passing glance, I recognized them as crime scene photos.
“Oh, Leighton,” he said, amusement and pity in his voice. “You told me.”
