Hidden Tracks | ✓

24 | psycho on the phone

I took a quick shower before eating.

I willed the water to clear my head and give me some insight. This was the most confusing and complicated case I'd gotten in a while. Instead of unravelling, the loose ends kept on piling up and tangling further into a mess.

Where were Caldwell and Beaumont? Were they even alive at this point? Were they kidnapped by Rubio himself, or was there any other druglord involved?

Suddenly, something which I hadn't considered before shot through my mind. When Caldwell had first reported what he'd witnessed at his restaurant to the police, he'd given descriptions of the waiters and the dealer he'd seen.

Till now the waiters hadn't been found, and neither had the dealer.

But what struck me was that if Caldwell already knew Rubio from before, wouldn't he give Rubio's description accurately? Wouldn't he mention Rubio's name to the police?

But the description he'd given was nowhere near what Rubio actually looked like.

I'd asked Kirk and Asimov to describe his features, and they most certainly did not match the description given by Caldwell in the official police report.

That was incredibly strange, unless Rubio himself wasn't present at the restaurant. Unless he'd sent another guy on his behalf, who Caldwell had ultimately witnessed.

It didn't add up, though. Caldwell wouldn't be so scared for his life and so rattled, if he didn't know it was his own friend who was smuggling drugs within his restaurant, and then proceeding to give him death threats.

I was almost sure he'd seen Rubio at the restaurant that night, but then why would he give a completely different description to the police?

I realised I could never have answers unless I magically travelled back in time and teleported to Bon Appétit on the night of that incident. I needed to see for myself what really happened that night, 'cause a lot of things didn't add up.

I stepped out of the shower, towel drying my hair and putting on my bathrobe.

Coming out of the bathroom, I immediately bumped into Soler's bare chest.

"Ow! What the hell!" I murmured, glancing up at him. I will admit my eyes took a little more time than necessary, to move past his chest and travel to his face.

He smirked for a split second, clearly noticing my moment of weakness. I was almost temped to give him the finger. "What do you want?"

Soler leaned against the wall, clad in only a pair of sweatpants. "Miranda asked me to call you downstairs. We'll ask Kirk or Asimov to make that call to Rubio."

I nodded, sidestepping him to go to the closet. "Tell her I'm coming down in a sec."

He nodded and simply continued standing there, watching me pick out my clothes. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Aren't you going to leave? I need to change."

He seemed to regain his senses and straightened up. "Oh, yeah, right. Sorry."

He left the room in a haste, but not before I caught him subtly checking out my legs. Hah.

Smiling to myself, I quickly changed into an off white sweatshirt and black pants, and headed downstairs.

Miranda was standing in the living room, talking to Gupta. She was holding Gupta's hand, and they seemed to be having their own private conversation. I didn't mean to intrude, so I just walked over to the guestroom and stood in front of Kirk and Asimov.

A moment later, Soler stepped in. Thankfully, he was wearing a shirt this time.

He told the two captive men what they were to do right away. He explained that one of them would send a text to Rubio, informing him about a new dealer who could be open to doing business with Rubio. They would send him Soler's phone number as a contact.