Free Silent City by Alex Segura Page A

both off.” She slid her glass an inch away from her grasp. “I was just saying that just because someone asks you to do something, it doesn’t mean you need to do it. What if Kathy’s dad asked you to jump off a bridge?”
    Pete laughed. Mike joined. Emily smiled as she took another sip of wine. The three of them had been friends for over a decade, so ribbing and sarcastic exchanges were par for the course. Pete wondered, as he took a quick sip of his beer, if they’d ever make it back to being real friends, or if they were forever cursed to this weird purgatory. When Emily was a Features designer at the Times, she had plenty of contact with Kathy. The two of them would hang out from time to time, before Emily got married and Kathy found Javier. Pete wondered why Emily was even out at this hour.
    “I just think it’s stupid,” Emily said, pulling out her cell phone and checking it quickly. “And as someone who actually knows Kathy—which you don’t—I think she’s more trouble than she’s worth. Smart girl, very pretty and cool to hang out with, that’s it. If it was me or Mike, then yeah, of course you should come find us.”
    “I’m not risking anything,” Pete said, annoyed. “This’ll be over in less than a day. I’m calling Chaz tomorrow, once I check out a few more things.”
    “What are you going to check out?” Emily asked.
    “Well, I need to check with her friends and neighbors…stuff like that,” Pete stammered. “And I checked out her boyfriend Javier’s record.”
    “How’d you check his record?”
    Pete scratched his head. He’d painted himself into a corner. Luckily, this was Emily, and awkwardness aside, she wasn’t going to get him in trouble. She would rib him about it, though.
    “You used the Times database? Right?”
    “Yeah,” Pete said.
    Emily took a long sip from her glass. Mike nodded absentmindedly.
    “Well, whatever, everyone does it,” Emily said. “Chaz is going to pay you, right?”
    Pete put up his arms defensively. “I just said I’d make a few inquiries. This is a one-off thing. I may not even accept any money from him if I don’t find his daughter.”
    “She probably went on some trip with this dude,” Emily said. “Anyway, what did you find?”
    “Not a lot, really,” Pete admitted. “Javier’s got a rap sheet. I was going to swing by this restaurant where he works and talk to him, see if he’s there.”
    “Where does he work?” Emily asked.
    “Casa Pepe’s, a Cuban joint near my dad’s house,” Pete said. He noticed Emily’s eyes softening slightly at the mention of his father. She’d loved his dad. Emily would sit with Pedro for hours, talking and drinking, when she and Pete visited from Jersey. She was shattered when they got the news. Pete had come home haggard and drunk. It didn’t click for her immediately—that sad, empty look in his eyes. He’d often come home wasted after covering a late Nets game. But he looked different that night, or so she’d told him. “You looked like you’d died,” she had whispered to him, a few nights later, as they shuddered outside the Caballero Funeral Home in Miami, drenched in a rainstorm and not caring.
    Pete shook his head and looked at his watch. It was late.
    “So Javier works there?” Emily asked, pulling Pete out of his thoughts.
    “Yeah,” Pete said. “Seems like it. I have to check to be sure.”
    “That place is odd,” Emily said, looking at her hands as she fiddled with a matchbook. “Hardly ever see anyone in there. Pretty nice looking for a Westchester Cuban place, though.”
    “The food sucks, too,” Mike chimed in, after finishing his beer and sliding the glass over to Jimmy.
    “Yeah, it’s not amazing; but you don’t like much food,” Emily said, looking at Mike. “The servers are totally rude, too. But people seem to go there.”
    Pete nodded. It was almost three in the morning. He was more tired than hammered. Talking to Emily and Mike had leveled him out. He