Mateo.
My phone chimed. Upturning the screen from the table, it was a text from him. It was as expected, impulsively latching a satisfied smile onto my features.
“He fell for it?” Orla’s voice cut through the relishing moment and I raised my eyes to her sitting across from me.
Holding up the screen to her instead, I said, “That’s his location. He wants us to meet now.”
“Doesn’t even amount to much,” she scoffed out, snarling at the screen like the sender of the text was standing before her. “Shall we?” she asked, swaying her eyes to mine. “He wants to see us.”
I smiled knowingly, the gratifying pulsing good energy through me. Mr. Mackey had utterly refused to meet with us, indirectly telling us he’d already been bought over by Sebastian. He was absent from the audition but that didn’t stop him from getting a full rundown as to what happened. Hundred percent certain he already knew why we were seeking him out and was being sneaky. But whatever shades he knew how to throw, I originated them.
The genesis of his downfall was an alliance with Sebastian who was already an open book. A forgotten story. Punched some buttons here and there, and his resolve changed direction like the wind.
We were currently in the restaurant we’d asked him to meet up with us. But apparently, the dude was too insecure to be carelessly seen around us. Prolly why he wanted the meeting to be where he wanted – trust issues. We could have the meeting in a cesspit for all the damn I could give as long as we walked out with the contract papers signed.
“Something feels off,” Orla pointed, staring at the G.P.S. tracker on the dashboard.
I would’ve concurred if I cared the least about where the meeting was going to hold but of course, Orla’s fears must be heard.
“What? Is it eerie?”
“Why do we have to go too far off for the meeting?” she asked skeptically. We’d been on the road for the past forty-five minutes. “Why is he dragging us out to meet with him?”
“Maybe he’s just trying to be extra careful?” I posed as a question, suggesting it to her instead.
“And if it’s a trap?” My response this time was delayed with me getting roped in thoughts.
A trap. That was a possibility.
“What?” I scoffed through. “You think he rattled us out to Sebastian?”
“He snitching is the least of my worries. I believe I made myself pretty clear the last time that I don’t think Sebastian would try to do anything funny,” she theorized, smashing the picture she was trying to create before it was even finished. If she was that convinced, what then were her fears?
“O-kay?” I stressed expectantly. There had to be a ‘but.’
“That’d be the case if we were discussing an average person here. Or rather, a NORMAL person. But it’s Sebastian, Mat,” she said, stressing the last part and tilting her head to me. “He’s far from normal. What if he plans to do something and hide it entirely from the world? Given the distance we’ve traveled, I think eliminating traces would be the least of their headache.”
She had a point. But of course, I wasn’t known as a ‘troublemaker’ in my youth for nothing. No way in hell would I turn the car around and back out even when there was every sense in what she just said.
“You want me to turn the car around?” I asked just in case.
“Of course not,” she declared unwaveringly, yanking a pleased smile out of me. “Just voicing possibilities. Keep the other guys on standby just in case.” She was speaking of Waylyn and co.
“Already on it. Besides, if this button breaks, there’ll be so many others to punch.” The producing company was in alliance with a couple of other foreign movie-producing companies so if he failed to comply, I’d be making use of other avenues. Although I hoped he would because he was the easiest button to push.
Pressing my leg onto the accelerator, I revved the engine past the initial point on the speedometer. She was getting the role and that was final.
It took us another fifteen minutes for the red marker on the tracker to become static – it stopped moving.
“We’re the ones with the longer end of the rope. And yet, still driving an entire hour just to meet him,” Orla mused aloud.
He had terrible manners, that was for sure. But not to worry, he’d be getting free lessons by the end of today.
We alighted the vehicle, and quite a funny scenery greeted us. It was either my GPS was broken, or the whacko actually made us travel over forty miles. My G.P.S. was as sound as new, mind you.
“It’s what I’m thinking, yeah?” Orla asked, looking over the car at me.
I nodded admittedly, bending my head to tap the invisible earpiece in my ear. It wasn’t invisible, just a ‘see-through’ that someone whispering into my ears would take no note unless told. It was illegal, end of quote.
My mouth hadn’t even come open before Waylyn’s whining filled my ears from the receiving end.
“My eyes are almost bleeding from staring at your steering wheel all day,” he drawled exhaustedly. “Step aside.”
Waylyn had always been my backup. I stepped back and just strolled around casually to give him ample view through the camcorder on one of my buttons.
The sound of keyboards clacking bloomed from the other end, Waylyn undoubtedly trying to crack our location. Using a special program to scan the scenery, our location would automatically pop up on the screen.
“Uhh… this was pretty easy,” he said but more to himself. “You’re just tryna confirm, right? You already know where y’all are.” When I remained silent, he added, “Well, bingo! Y’all at the suburbs. What would you like me to hack into?”
“Nothing yet,” I said and could hear the subtle sigh of disappointment left in its wake from his end. “Just be on standby for now. Keep your eyes and ears open.”
“You bet. Just don’t bore me to death,” he said, mumbling the last part.
“Waylyn,” I called in a reprimanding tone.
“Fine, fine!” he conceded dramatically. “I WILL.”
“Please ring me up if I’ll be sending cookies to anyone,” he added with an emphatic ‘please,’ referring to illegal links he normally sent to devices he’d want to hack.
“Sure.” Concluding, I clicked the button, cutting our communication line.
The neighborhood was lifeless. Lonely, and void of any houses, only a small cabin could be seen a few paces away. And it looked deserted as well. Just where the hell did he bring us to?
“Could he be in there?” Orla asked openly.
“Are we in an investigation movie or sum’n?” I asked rhetorically, approaching the archaic-looking structure with eyes still hung up with whatever was behind me even though there was nothing. Stretching forth my hand now in Orla’s way, I beckoned for her to join me. “C’mon.” Taking her hand in mine while she used the other to raise her dress to give her legs room, I took the lead inside.
“I have a very bad feeling about this.”
Gripping her hands tighter, I gently pulled her close as we were now approaching the main entrance.
We got in, hauling everyone’s attention in the room. Looked dead on the outside but had a little bit of life in there. Was a small thatched structure with a wooden floor on the inside and a few chairs around tables to go with them. It was a restaurant, going out of business it seemed. Only a few people were here, all chatting before we walked in. Now, it was all eyes floating all around us and giving us an awkward look.
Roving my eyes around, I searched for Mr. Mackey before they jammed with a pair of dark grey eyes near the counter. He was sitting quietly with a glass of cocktail on his table, patiently waiting for when I’d notice him.
He sure had some balls for someone with the ‘shorter end of the rope.’
“C’mon, Orla. Over there.”