The old chef panicked. She never expected a simple cup of coffee would get her into so much trouble and talking. I could sense the worry on her face, but I didn’t mind. I just wanted to hear the truth from her, and that’s all, no much pressure.
She swallowed hard, terror filled her eyes.
“The Crimson Cartel,” she started softly, looking around to see if everyone else was still busy. I ignored her body language and only focused on the information she had.
She sighed.
“My husband. His friend worked for the Crimson at that time.” She bowed softly, as if trying to hold back tears.
At this point, I was losing patience. Whatever happened, she needed to come clean and straight with me.
“Listen, Ma’am, I need you to just make this really snappy. You have a job to finish, and I have a place t
