Page 18 of Convict's Game
“…said we weren’t supposed to talk,” the younger woman was saying.
“Fuck him. Will you tell me your name? I’m Mila,” my lass said.
The girl gave a shaky response I couldn’t hear.
The door behind them opened again, and a third woman entered. With her chin high, she smirked at Mila and waved with her fingertips.
Mila stared at her. “Esther?”
“Babe! No names, remember?”
“Right, God, why are you here?”
“I figured what the hell. You’re doing it, and I could use the extra money. You only live once, right?” Her gaze slid over Mila. “Plus, maybe I wanted to see if you’d go through with it.”
“But why?—?”
“Joking! Chill out.” Esther crossed the room to a cracked mirror on the far wall and checked her appearance, straightening her pigtails of brunette hair.
At a guess, I put her a little older than Mila, though from her getup, trying to appear younger.
The camera was positioned in the very top corner of the room, above the window I’d used to get inside. It used the light and gave an excellent view of this unexpected meet-up.
Esther started a conversation, a one-sided complaint about the price of rent in the city, with Mila and the girl barely getting a word in edgeways.
My phone buzzed with a message.
Tyler: Manny said you were looking for me. I’m back but not for long. Come to the office for a catch-up?
I replied that I’d come down. For now, Mila was okay, even if taking my eyes off her felt like the worst decision in the world. I left the tablet on my bed. Oddly, I didn’t want to share the video with Tyler, as if it was mine only to view, and regardless of the fact he’d set up the surveillance.
The skeleton crew’s office door was open on my arrival.
At the desk, Tyler raised his head. “How are you feeling?”
I shrugged. “Never better.”
It was true. Last night, I’d scaled a building. If I’d hurt myself in doing so, my body wouldn’t be working today. It was doing all I asked of it, therefore I was good.
Without delay, I launched into the debrief Tyler wanted. “The woman’s name is Mila. Nicely spoken, comes from money, though she’s trying to hide it.”
“What makes you think that?”
I thought about it. “Her clothes and her confidence. She has that self-assured vibe of someone from a privileged background.”
“It’s not an act? Money can come from many sources.”
I caught his drift. “She’s not a sex worker, and my gut tells me to believe her when she says she’s not on the side of the people who own that place.”
Tyler stared. “What do you mean, ‘she says’?”
“I spoke to her.”
“How?”
“I broke into her room. Well, technically, she let me in.”
Tyler rubbed the spot between his eyes. “Fucking hell, Con. If I thought you were ready to go out into the field, I would have given you more warning. Backup as a minimum.”
