Page 32 of Drunk In Love
“Omigod, that’s him,” I whisper.
“Yeah?” Max says.
“Yes, he just came through the doors. He’s heading towards the kitchen. Turn around slowly,” I say.
“We have to catch him,” Maxwell says as the server returns to take the credit card.
Thankfully, the server doesn’t take long to return with the card, and I see Franco heading back outside. Looks like there’s a lighter in his hands.
“C’mon, we have to move quick,” I say, standing up and shouldering my bag.
“Okay,” Max says, scrambling to return his wallet to his back pocket.
We head out to the side of the building, away from the front doors and the outdoor seating area at the front of the restaurant. We approach Franco, who’s dressed in a white button-down with a black tie, matching black pants, and an apron tied around his waist.
“Franco DiLaurentis?” Maxwell questions.
The other man slowly turns around. He lifts his cigarette to his mouth, taking a long drag and studying the two of us. A beat passes before he responds.
“Who exactly is asking?”
I speak up first since Maxwell and I are apparently playing good cop/bad cop in this moment.
“We’re from Tri-State Security. We just want to ask you some questions about your former employer, Financial Journal.”
He snorts at my response and begins shaking his head. “The last thing I want to do is talk about that place with two strangers.”
“Not exactly strangers. Maybe you’ve seen us around the building.”
Franco looks at Maxwell, and brief recognition comes over his features. Still, I don’t think it’s enough to change his mind about talking to us.
“I recognize your employer name. From what I remember, you’re not law enforcement, so I don’t have to talk to you.” With that, he begins moving past us and back towards the restaurant. Maxwell looks over at me with a “do something” look in his eyes.
“The reason we came here is because we suspect you were wrongly terminated…and we need your help.”
I hold my breath, not sure if that’s enough to get him to turn around. Franco is one of the best leads we have going with this assignment, and I’m hoping that speaking to him brings us one step closer to the truth.
Franco steps away from the back door leading into the kitchen and faces us again. “You’re right, I was wrongfully terminated. They set me up.”
“They who?” Maxwell asks.
“I can’t say for sure, but I have an idea of who is behind me getting fired,” Franco answers. “Jacob tell you I was here?”
“Yeah, he said we could find you here. He’s been trying to help us figure out what is going on,” Maxwell says. Not entirely true, but Franco didn’t have to know that.
“Well, if Jake trusts you…” Franco starts and sighs. “I was sent an email about creating bogus group subscriber accounts, and there was banking and routing information in those emails.”
“What did you do next?” I ask.
Franco takes a long drag on the cigarette. “I ignored it at first until I was approached about the messages.”
“Approached by who?” Max asks.
“I’d rather not say.”
“Franco, we could help you—” I begin to say.
“No!” the other man interjects. “I will not say. They threatened my family. Said they’d report me to immigration. I’m here on a work visa, waiting for my citizenship to be approved. Next thing, I was fired.”