Tangled In Strings

Chapter Nineteen

Roberto fixes a drainpipe as I look on, waiting for him to answer me. My eyes continue to flicker to the window, where I know Norman's tinted vehicle is waiting to conceal me from the dangerous streets.

I hear the man on his back groan beneath the sink. "This damn thing."

"Roberto, I really need to get going. My ride is waiting downstairs."

His thick accent echoes against the peeled wood. "I don't know what to tell you, babe. The only time the guy resembled anything of a decent human being was when he was with you. When you left, he really fell apart. A nasty, nasty deadbeat... I'm sorry, doll, I have nothing on him, and I don't know why you are looking for it, but I'd tell you to let it go. He ain't worth it."

"I would let it go if I could."

It's not easy to push past the dejection I experience at yet another letdown attempt to put Dixon in his place. Roberto climbs out from the cabinets, rubbing his aching back as he straightens.

"This must be bad. You were arrested last week, right? I saw it in the paper. Was it because of him?"

With just a sharp look, I answer him. He begins to shake his head, huffing to himself.

"I don't envy you right now. I can't imagine cameras and people following me around all day. The downside of breaking up with a celebrity." He must catch the quick divert of my gaze, which lands on my towering stilettos, because he immediately checks himself. "I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't believe everything I read."

"We ended things amicably, together. There was no dumping."

"Well, I hope you aren't too upset over it. You're probably better off anyway. You don't need all that drama."

I ignore that, tittering in place agitatedly. "Come on, Rob. There's gotta be something you can tell me about him, something you remember."

He sets down the tools he had been cleaning with a dirty hand towel with a sigh, and directs his line of sight to the floor, trying to think back.

"I know his dealers? I mean, not personally of course, but I know who they are."

I'm already pulling out my phone to input whatever information he chooses to divulge. He holds up his hands, towel hanging from his left.

"Now, Scarlett, these guys are the real deal. I doubt they'd enjoy an interrogation from a former cop's wife and trust me, they'll find out if you don't tell them."

I smile with determination. "Let me worry about the details."

...

With a slide into the backseat of Norman's limo, I shut the door with finality and grin.

"You look like you got something."

I turn to Norman, handing over my phone. He squints, scanning the names I typed in, unable to see clear without his glasses.

"Fernando Vasquez. Connie Leto. Who are these people?"

"Dixon's old suppliers."

Norman's already pale, but he shades to the color of a ghost at my admission.

"And what do you expect to get from them?"

"Information, of course." When he doesn't pick up on my excitement, I lean closer. "Norman, this is gold. If I can link Dixon to these men—"

"No."

"No?"

He shakes his head, eyes buggered. "No way in hell you are meeting drug dealers."