Talk To Me

Chapter thirty-one

Present

"Wake up!" Leah shouted, standing in front of the gray couch. "Oly!" She flicked her brother's forehead, knowing there was no reason for that. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" Oliver groaned and turned from his back to his left side. "Good, you awake."

"I'm really not," Oliver said, his voice muffled by the gray fuzzy blanket.

"We need to talk." She lingered above him, scanning his face.

"About what?" Oliver asked, still with his eyes closed.

"About Emma, the waitress from your restaurant."

"Is that why you woke me up?" He opened his right eye.

"Yes."

"I'm going back to sleep." He closed his right eye again.

"But I didn't even tell you what I found out about her." Minutes passed in silence. "Don't pretend you are sleeping, Oly," Leah groaned. "Come on." She tried to shake his shoulder. "She is selling drugs from your restaurant!"

"First of all, the restaurant is not mine," Oliver said, sitting up. "Second, stop yelling at me." He stared at Leah. "And third, there is no way she is doing that." He shook his head. "Stop meddling in my personal life."

"I'm not." Oliver raised his eyebrow. "What? I just don't want to get caught up in something shady."

"Where did you even get this idea?"

"Her dad told me."

Oliver laughed. "The man is crazy. And you woke me up for this?"

"He is not crazy." She squinted her eyes. "Is he right?" Oliver raised his eyebrow. "Are you in love with her?"

"No."

"You paused."

"No, I didn't." He shook his head.

"Yes, you did." She nodded. "Wait. Did you sleep with her?"

"Why are you asking? You already knew about the girls."

"What?"

"Back at the car, you mentioned three girls."

"Yeah, about that I was just trying to force you to drive back here," Leah laughed. "I just said a random number." Oliver's eyes widened. "Three, really Oly. You have no shame."

"I'm going back to sleep," Oliver said, lying down and facing the backrest of the couch. Leah walked around the sofa and bent over the couch flap. "Uh, don't do that! It looks so weird."

The gray backrest held at Leah's waist and stuck out from her back. "Talk to me and I will stop," she said, grinning.

"Fine." He sat down, throwing his hands in the air. "Let's talk. How did you end up dead? I want details, Leah."

Leah stood up. "No. Not about that." She shook her head. "I want to talk about your girlfriend."

"She is not my girlfriend. I'm not sure what her father told you. But she is definitely not some kind of drug lord who pretends to be a waiter."

"No, she is not. But her mother is, and she is in charge of a human trafficking operation too." Oliver's mouth held agape. "Think Oly. How many human traffickers could be in Dover?"

"There is no way Emma is involved in this." He shook his head. "She is a good person, Leah. I don't believe one word her father said to me."

"I understand, but we could investigate this."