Page 130 of Red Flag
After the general pleasantries of telling her how sorry I was and asking how she was, she said, “I have a statement but I’ve asked Nix to translate it into English. My written word isn’t as great as my spoken. I can ask him to send it to you?”
“That would be great,” I told her and couldn’t help but ask, “Nix, how is he?”
She was silent for a moment. “He’s… struggling? We’ve got each other.”
It was hard to swallow.
They’ve got each other.
“Right,” I said, hoping my rapid breaths weren’t noticeable over the phone. “Well, tell him I asked after him and to send that over to me. Again, I’m sorry for your loss,Cally.”
And, as if saved by the angels, my phone started to beep with another incoming call.
“I’ve got to take this, sorry.”
She said goodbye and I answered the other call, pacing my hotel room.
“Hello?”
Nix cherished me. I was certain. No one had ever cared for me as much as he had. But did that just show how low my standards had been before or was that telling of our relationship?
He had been the one who practically made us move in together. He wanted to be exclusive.
He wouldn’t throw it all away for someone he claimed to despise, would he?
“Olivia?” the woman on the phone said. A journalist. I had only been half listening to what she said. “Did you hear me?”
Raayini. A journalist who was part of the court case againstVinny.
“I don’t think we should be talking,Raay,” I said cautiously. “I’m pretty sure that would look awful on record.”
“It’s not aboutVinny,” she said quickly as if worried I would hang up. “I really need to talk to you.”
I sighed and sat on my bed. “Go on.”
“I have something. I wanted to give you the heads up,” she said. “You’re not going to like it. I have on record two people telling me that PedroVelazcowas not the only smuggler.”
My heart almost stopped beating. It at least stuttered.
“A rider. With his own plane.”
Fucking fuck.
“Don’t even say it,” I said. “I know who you’re alluding to.”
“I wanted to let you know, what with what happened toVinny,” she said and her voice broke.
“You can’t post anything,” I blurted. “Not right now.AlvaroMendes is dead.”
“What did you say?” she asked, breathless.
“Alvaro Mendes is dead.”
“Are you saying this on or off the record? Because I can only get my boss to stop this going forward if you are on the record,” she said.
“It’s the truth,” I told her. “You can’t attach my name to it, but you know my word can be trusted.”
“Yes,” she said. “That won’t stop this from coming out, though,Livie. I really don’t want to publish this on such little evidence, and I’m telling you this as a favour. Two anonymous sources and very few details… but they’ll keep this for when he’s going to win the championship. Or a slow news day.”
