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“Then who’s fault is it?”
“The FBI’s. They should have never involved you in this. It was unprofessional of them.”
“I feel like I let everyone down. Including Brittany. I was hoping we still had a shot at the Cooking Channel show. I just…” I shake my head. “I don’t know, it’s all those lies Mike told. They totally threw me in the wrong direction.”
Will studies me a minute. “Have you ever thought that maybe your ability to tell when someone’s lying could actually be a hindrance?”
Just all the time.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“If you didn’t know that Mike had lied to you would you have been so suspicious of him?”
I think about Will’s question. To be fair, the answer is probably no.
“You’re right. As usual.”
“Don’t take it so hard. Like I said, this isn’t your fault.”
I have to admit Will is making me feel just the teeniest bit better.
“So how’s work?” I ask because I don’t want this to always be about me.
“Busy. I’m writing up a grant that will hopefully let us update our computer system.”
“Sounds boring.”
“It is.”
“Why don’t you get someone else to write the grant? Like Sally. She’s pretty sharp, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, but she’s going on a leave of absence.”
“Where to? She just got here.”
“Wyoming. Her dad’s sick, and she’s the only family he’s got left.”
“That’s too bad. I really like her.”
“Hopefully she’ll be back.”
“Maybe we can give her a going away party? I could make muffins.”
Will chuckles.
I’m starting to feel hungry, which is a good sign. I check the time. We still have an hour before my parents expect us. “How do you think El Tigre was able to disable those cameras?”
Will moans. “Not again. Lucy, you’re like a dog with a bone.”
“I know. Sorry, but just hear me out. The feds have been keeping watch since yesterday, but they just now noticed that the camera was disabled. Does that make sense to you? That button was left there sometime today, which means that El Tigre was at The Bistro today.” I sit up straight. “El Tigre was at The Bistro today,” I repeat slowly.
“Okay,” says Will. “He could have come and gone anytime, right? Unless the FBI had agents in the parking lot?”
“Will,” I say, getting excited. “There’s no way El Tigre could have gotten into the parking lot and disabled that camera on his own. Not without inside help.”
“You think one of the FBI agents is crooked?”
“Maybe one of the FBI agents is El Tigre.” The second I say it out loud I shake my head because instinctively I know it’s wrong. “That’s not right. I thought maybe Ken Cameron was dirty and that’s why he was killed. But think about it. Why would El Tigre kill Ken Cameron so early in the game? Why not wait until after he had no more use for him?”
