Cuco’s pov;
I adjusted my jacket, making sure the gun Diego had handed me the night before was visible enough to be seen from a distance.
Then I knocked on the door.
The door opened just a few inches.
Aaron Bell appeared, peeking through as though he was scared. But what I saw in his eyes wasn’t fear, it was exhaustion and anger. As though he had been working and someone had disturbed him so early.
“Yes?”
I held up the photograph slowly.
His face drained of color.
“We need to talk,” I said quietly.
His gaze flicked past me, scanning the street.
He saw the car, I could see it in the shift of his expression.
Smart man.
“I think you have the wrong house,” he said louder, playing along.
“No,” I replied just as loudly. “I don’t.”
Silence.
Then, he whispered under his breath, maki
