Page 40 of Tango
“I’ll let him know.” Dylan heads out of the office, so I follow him. Alice is sitting on the couch, petting Tango, who is lying lovingly beside her. “I’m sorry for being rude,” Dylan says. “It’s not my intention to make you feel like a criminal.”
“It’s all good. I’d be untrusting of me too. But I promise you, I didn’t kill Ramiro. He was my best friend.”
Dylan shrugs. “Tucker thinks you’re innocent, so who am I to argue?” He turns to me. “See you both at dinner later?”
“See you there.”
With one final nod at Alice, he leaves my house and closes the door behind him.
“You and your twin are two totally different people,” she says again.
I sigh, looking at the door. “We didn’t use to be. Come on, I could use your help with this. We need to make sure Frank Loyotta’s company doesn’t become exposed. I won’t let them be collateral damage in this fight.”
Chapter 14
Alice
“Nice work.” Tucker leans back in his chair and glances around his monitor to where I’m sitting at a plastic fold-up table.
I shut my laptop and grin. “Couldn’t get in?”
“Nope. His company should be covered now.” Tucker stands and rolls his shoulders. “One problem down.”
After I started my program to prove the surveillance video of me murdering Ramiro is a fake, we started immediately working on protecting Frank Loyotta’s company—something we’ve been at for nearly three hours as we worked to bury everything we can behind a firewall that is invisible to anyone who isn’t looking for it.
We just have to hope that whoever looks through the system won’t be expecting it. The information available is all basic—administrative employee information, their books, all that. We were careful not to hide anything that would make it look as though there was information missing. But the victims Find Me has rescued, the names of their rescuers, and anything else that should be protected are hidden.
My stomach churned when I scanned the ages of some of the victims they’ve rescued from traffickers over the years. If I could do anything in this world with the snap of a finger, it would be to put an end to that horrific nightmare so many suffer through.
“I know we’re having dinner in an hour, but—coffee?” Tucker’s question pulls me from my thoughts.
I check the status of the video decryption, frustrated that it still hasn’t finished. “Yes. Please. A vat of it.”
He smiles. “You got it.”
I follow him out of the room, and Tango raises his head to look at us. “Hier, Tango,” I say, using the German word for ‘here’ since that’s what I’ve noticed Tucker using.
The dog jumps up and happily trots over toward me as I follow Tucker out into the hallway.
“Do you speak German?” he questions as he puts grounds into the basket of his coffeepot. “I heard you call Tango.”
And then, I realize that Tango is a service animal, and we’re not supposed to command someone’s working dog. “Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t have called him. He’s a working dog?—”
“No, it’s fine. I was just surprised you used the command. Wasn’t sure it was because you’ve heard me use it or you actually speak German.”
“Fluently,” I reply. “I took it in high school, then again in college. After I graduated, I spent a summer in Munich with my parents. It was a dream trip.”
“Munich is gorgeous.”
“You’ve been?”
He nods. “A few times. Once was an extended layover, once was for a job, and the third time was by accident.”
“How do you accidentally end up in Germany?”
He laughs. “It’s a long story.”
“We have time.”
