There aren’t many staff around, either. I should be about five minutes, then I’m out. This is José’s last night here, too.
I felt he’s the best bodyguard Natalia could have.
When I reach the door, my steps slow when I notice droplets of blood on the ground leading to the warehouse door he works in.
I reach for my gun when I notice more blood by the door.
Walking carefully, with my gun ready, I push the door open and freeze mid-stride when I see José on the floor covered in blood and his throat slit from ear to ear.
His lips are blue, his eyes wide open, lifeless.
He’s dead.
* * *
As the hours have ticked by, one person after another has come to investigate what the fuck must have happened here.
The only thing that’s been on my mind is how I was going to break the news of José’s death to Natalia.
I have no idea what fucking words I’m going to use to tell her that the man who was like family to her was killed. He’s dead.
Clearly, he saw or heard something he shouldn’t have, and someone here is working for either Ivan or one of my enemies.
José’s death also means my plans to protect my wife the way I wanted to have just gone out the fucking window.
I was supposed to be home hours ago, so she’s going to be wondering where I am.
I had Levka and another guard head to the house, while Sebastian has been here with me looking through the surveillance and talking to people who would have noticed José. I just finished the last recording while he’s been busy questioning the porter, the last person on the list to speak with.
The fucking cameras in the warehouse he was working in weren’t on.
That doesn’t just fucking happen. This is where we do our arms trafficking under wraps and other shit of the illegal variety. So, the cameras have to be working.
The security guard said everything was working this morning when he checked, so it’s obvious someone switched them off.
I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary on the recordings the other cameras picked up. I didn’t think I would. Whoever is screwing with me is allowing me to see what they want me to see.
I walk into the little foreman’s office Sebastian has been using to talk to the workers. He’s still talking to the porter.
They both look at me when I walk in.
“Anything so far?” I demand.
The porter looks like he’s going to shit himself.
“Nothing,” Sebastian replies. “He says José left the premises before lunch, and no one saw him come back on site.”
I narrow my eyes. To get back on site, someone would have had to see him.
Unless he went directly to the warehouse loading bay, and the fucking cameras aren’t working for us to establish that.
“No one saw him. I’ve been here all day,” the porter adds.
“That’s fine. You can go,” I reply. “If you think of anything else, call me.”
“Yes, boss.”
The porter gets up and leaves.
