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Fuck and double fuck.
The puzzle pieces began to fall into place for me. Robyn was an informant, either that or a plant. Or at least in the process of being – if she’d given up all the information they wanted she’d be in custody right now and out of harm’s way. She must be holding back her intel until they offered her a deal she found acceptable, or they wanted something from her that required she stay in play. Though if Gabriel had his way she was going to be a very dead snitch before that ever happened. I raked a hand through my hair and sighed as I rounded the corner of the block and made my way to the closest subway station. What now? If she was indeed an informant, like I was guessing she was, then that meant she wasn’t a bad guy after all. She may have just been someone who got in over her head and didn’t know what she was getting into until it was too late.
So, I asked myself a second time, now what?
Entering the train, I decided there was only one thing I could do. I needed to talk to Robyn. I’d fucking kidnap her and make her talk to me if I had to. Regardless of how I had to go about it, one way or another I’d get the answers I wanted.
Deciding I didn’t have time to waste, I made my way back to Brooklyn and to the building Robyn lived in. As I rode the train back to Brooklyn I mulled over ideas on how to approach this. I could accidentally bump into Robyn again. Maybe she’d be more receptive to talking to me a second time.
I huffed. Who was I kidding? If she was talking to the feds then the last thing she’d want was the complication of an ex-boyfriend in her life, especially one she’d run out on without a word. No doubt she’d just brush me off if I attempted the more casual approach.
As the train came to my stop, which happened to surface just two blocks from her apartment building, I came up with the best idea I could under the circumstances. I'd go to the apartment that was hers and hang out in the hallway by her door until she came home. Not the best idea, but it’s what I had. I could always break into her apartment and wait for her there, but if she was carrying a gun then I ran the risk of getting shot before I even got to sit down and talk to her. She was jittery, scared and nervous and if she was smart she’d be packing. I know for a fact if I were her there was no way I’d be wandering the streets unarmed, not after pissing off the people she was once associated with.
