AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Do you have security cameras in the bar?"
"No, I told your colleagues this morning. Neither inside nor outside, mine's a quiet bar where there's nothing more than the occasional silly brawl," he replies, regaining his particular bad mood.
"Alright, you've been a great help. If you remember anything else, call me," she says, leaving her card on the table.
The man hasn't had time to pick it up when Sergeant Cruz Ortega says her goodbyes and exits his apartment as if she just saw the devil. She takes a deep breath of fresh air, scratching her nose as if that would rid her of the lingering scent that has settled inside.
As she gets into her car, she takes a few moments to process all the information. She stows the recorder in her bag along with the notepad. Cruz has numerous questions surrounding those women, unable to make connections anywhere, but one thing is clear to her: they stole the car.
Chapter 13
Abigail and Gretel stand in the center of a coastal town in the province of Malaga. They've driven for almost thirty minutes to settle on this spot.
"Here, we're surrounded by houses. If they trace the call, let them look..." Abigail says, mentally exhausted.
Gretel unbuckles her seatbelt, and without exactly knowing what prompts her to do what she does, she leans over Abigail, placing a hand on the nape of her neck with a determination uncharacteristic of her, and kisses her, releasing some of the longing she feels for Abigail. The executive is not only unsurprised by the gesture but catches her in a moment of absolute need. That's the escape route she would like to take now, what she usually does when she feels very stressed – seek a bit of sex to help her unload and release all the tension.
When Gretel's tongue traces the line of her lower lip, Abigail ignites like a fuse and deepens the kiss, forgetting where they are and what time it is. Gretel is completely surrendered and about to yield to what Abigail's hands, surrounding and pulling her, demand of her leap onto her. Then they hear the laughter of some children a little further away, and both startle. They look around anxiously, thinking the kids were laughing at them, but all the children had done was come out of a doorway.
Abigail drops her head against the headrest and sighs before looking at Gretel and realizing she's being looked at in a way that makes her feel good. They maintain eye contact and hold hands in silence. Gretel strokes the top of Abigail's hand with her thumb, and Abigail lets her, closing her eyes for a moment.
"I need all of this to end."
Gretel holds onto her, a silent companion.
"Me too. And I want to talk with Pol. I never want to see him again."
Abigail feels a mix of relief and a twinge of guilt, finding solace in Gretel's desire to erase their shared past with that guy.
"The sooner we start, the sooner it ends."
Reluctantly, Abigail releases Gretel's hand, retrieving one of the phones from their recent acquisition. Waiting for it to power up, she swiftly dials the local police number on her own device. Putting it on speaker, she places it on her lap.
"I have information about Mikel Blanco's whereabouts," Abigail declares with unwavering determination as soon as the call connects. "I want to speak to the person in charge of the investigation."
"Can I have your name, please?" the voice on the other end inquires.
"I won't tell you anything. If you don't connect me with that person, I'll hang up and call the National Police. They might pay more attention."
"Wait a moment, please. Don't hang up," the guard responds, sensing the weight of potential crucial information.
A beep signals a pause, and a hollow sound fills the air as the officer converses with the relevant authority. Abigail takes the opportunity to exhale the breath she's been holding, locking eyes with Gretel, who remains wide-eyed, stunned by Abigail's strategic approach. Threatening to divulge information to another law enforcement body proves to be a shrewd move, considering the well-known tensions among them, each always vying to assert their dominance in the information hierarchy.
Chapter 14
Sergeant Cruz Ortega barely has a moment to take a seat. She strides through the precinct door, leaving her belongings on the desk, when her lieutenant stands before her.
"We've got a call. They say it's a woman claiming to have information on Mikel Blanco. She's on hold, insisting she'll only talk to the person in charge. I'll have her routed to Miguel, play the part of being in charge, and assess if the information is useful. How's it going on your end? Any progress?"
Lieutenant Álvaro Sanz whispers as he speaks, a habit ingrained in the precinct's culture. He acts as if they're lovers or hiding something. There's an unspoken trust between them, and Cruz is fed up with asking him to stop. She cares about him, but only as a friend, a sentiment he refuses to acknowledge.
"Quit the whispering, Álvaro," she urges again. "Get the call through; I'll handle it."
"You've got more important things, Cruz. This isn't the first call today claiming to have info. You know how this works. The case hits the news, and suddenly everyone remembers something or thinks they've seen something suspicious, or they've decided they want to mess with me."
"Or they want something in return for the info," she adds.
"Exactly, that too."
