Page 24 of Daring

"What time did they arrive?"

Sergeant Cruz Ortega is intrigued. They aren't the suspects she's looking for, but the fact that they were the only ones who spoke to the victims and it was their first time there feels, at the very least, like a coincidence worth considering.

"They didn't arrive together. The prim one came first, you know, the typical one who looks like she's never broken a plate. I didn't get what she was doing there, seemed lost and ended up in my bar by sheer chance. Ordered a beer, drank it while looking around like she was scared. The other came a bit later. She wasn't like the first one, oozed confidence from every pore. She looked loaded, if you catch my drift," he says, rubbing his thumb against his index finger. "The typical executive with an air of arrogance, but then she sat down and ordered a shot of tequila. Blew my mind."

"Did they know each other? Do you think they had planned to meet here?"

"I don't think so. They didn't greet each other initially, and if Miss Moneybags sat there, it was because it was the only vacant stool at that moment. They started talking when the executive invited the other to a tequila shot. I thought she'd collapse right there when she downed it. She tensed up, as if the liquid was burning her brain."

Cruz Ortega envisions the scene, finding it increasingly perplexing why two women like them would be in a dive bar filled with end-of-shift drunks.

"It seemed like they understood each other. They went to one of the tables, played a game of pool, and finally returned to the table, staying there until they left. They drank quite a bit for women."

Sergeant Cruz Ortega raises an eyebrow at the man's unfortunate comment. Despite realizing the sexism in his words instantly, he doesn't bother apologizing.

"But you say they talked to those men," the sergeant resumes the conversation, breaking the tension.

"Well, more of a collision than a talk. As they were leaving, they first went to the restroom." The man is interrupted by a sudden coughing fit, prompting Cruz to instinctively move away quickly to avoid potential splatters of drool.

She watches him turn red, which surprises her considering how pale the man is. As he gets up for a glass of water to clear his throat, she thinks that, despite what he claims about not paying attention to his customers, he paid a lot of attention to these two women. Then she remembers that they are women, and according to him, good-looking ones. Of course, he noticed them, and that's why he didn't notice anyone else.

"Sorry, my mouth gets dry when I talk a lot," the man says, returning to his seat.

"Don't worry. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes. So, as I was saying, they went to the restroom, and when they came out, one of them tripped and practically fell onto one of the guys, the one who's now a corpse, I guess."

"Fell onto him?" Cruz asks, surprised.

"Yeah, just for a moment. The other one quickly took charge and helped her up. I know the guy said something to them, but I don't know what it was."

"Do you remember which of the two tripped?"

The man looks puzzled by the question. What the hell does it matter?

"Yes, sure. It was the executive."

That confuses Sergeant Cruz Ortega even more. From the man's description, if there was one who could be clumsy, it was the other woman.

"The filthy guy groped her, you know?" he explains without her asking, as if that act had bothered him in a very particular way. "Took advantage while the poor thing was on top of him, and under the pretext of holding her, shamelessly grabbed her ass. I was surprised the woman didn't smack him right there; she seemed like the no-nonsense type. I wouldn't dare even to cough at her."

Sergeant Cruz Ortega also finds it suspicious that a woman like her would allow a stranger to grope her without protest. She wouldn't hesitate to slap him across the face with an open hand, and the sergeant has large hands.

"And you know what's funniest?" the man asks, as if his tongue suddenly loosened.

"What?"

"Before leaving, Moneybags paid for a round for those jerks. What kind of woman does that?" the man wonders aloud.

The sergeant's mind races through data until only one possible scenario makes sense: those two women wanted to buy time. Her heart quickens at that realization.

"Do you remember if they paid in cash or with a card?"

"With a card," he asserts without hesitation.

"The executive?"

"Indeed."

---