He gives my boobs another long appraisal and clears his throat. “Yeah, okay. But don’t tell him you got it from me.”
“Gracias.” I glance at my watch while he scribbles numbers on a Post-it. Chris only has an hour before the window of his death begins. This is my one chance to warn him before then, and if this number doesn’t work, if this guy is playing me, there’s nothing else I can do.
But just as I’m slipping the number in my pocket, Chris walks into the shop. “Cortez, give us a minute,” he says, and the guy behind the counter disappears into the back.
I almost want to hug Chris it’s such a relief to see him alive. But he glares at me, the muscles in his neck twitching, a heavy wrench clutched in his hand.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks.
“Trent and Zoe are dead,” I say
