Demetrio's POV
Cellie was not at Rico's.
I had arrived at the bar at the precise time her shift was supposed to begin and the woman at the front, Diana or Delia or whatever her name was, had given me the specific look of someone who did not know whether to be more concerned about the missing employee or the expression on my face as I asked about her.
"She hasn't clocked in yet," she said. "She's never late. I was just about to call her."
I was already walking out.
I had my phone out before I hit the sidewalk, Sergio's name already pulled up, and the device vibrated in my hand before I could dial because Sergio was already calling me, which meant something had already happened, which meant the specific dark thing that had been sitting at the back of my mind since I walked into an empty bar was not paranoia.
I picked up on the first vibration. "What happened."
