“Don’t go kissing any pigs just yet,” Mitch growls at Danny. “You’re still in hot water.”
Danny dabs more sweat from his forehead.
“This is your last chance.” Mitch points his knife toward Danny. “You know what happens if you mess this up?”
A drop of red juice drips off the blade of the knife.
Danny opens his mouth to answer, but then they hear a commotion going on outside the office door. There’s yelling, then the sound of pans clattering and glass breaking. Then comes an earsplitting crash, as if someone dropped a whole tray of dinner plates outside the office door.
“What in the holy hell is going on out there?” Mitch snarls.
Mitch stands to his feet just as the door bursts open, crashing against the wall with a bang. In seconds, the office is full of police officers pointing shotguns and pistols at Mitch and Danny.
“Hands up!” a cop yells.
Danny obliges. Mitch ignores the request.
“What’s going on here?” he barks. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“You two are under arrest,” one cop says, leveling a pistol at Mitch’s forehead.
Another cop grabs Mitch and shoves him against his desk. He kicks Mitch’s legs into a wide stance and begins patting him down. Another officer shoves Danny against the wall and begins patting him down as well.
“Where are the drugs?” one of the officers asks Mitch.
“What drugs?” Mitch says. “This is a family restaurant. It’s a law-abiding business.”
The cop gets close to Mitch’s ear and says, “You’re the biggest drug dealer in the city. You know it. We know it. Everybody knows it. And now you’re finally going down for it.”
“Where’s your evidence?”
The cops glance around the room, as if they’re expecting to see a brick of coke sitting out in the open. There isn’t anything but Mitch’s half-eaten steak.
“Don’t worry,” the cop says, pulling Mitch’s hands behind his back and cuffing them. “We’ll find the evidence, even if we have to tear this place apart.”
A cop yanks one of Danny’s arms behind his back, fastens a cuff around it, and then pulls his other arm back and locks them together.
“Ouch,” Danny mumbles.
“What’s wrong?” a cop says. “Don’t like being locked up? Get used to it. We’re going to lock you up until you’re old enough to collect social security.”
The police begin searching the office, flinging open drawers on the desk and turning over furniture. Danny watches them search, then raises his eyes to look at Mitch.
Mitch is glaring at him, his eyes focused and murderous.
A cold chill slithers up Danny’s spine. Mitch doesn’t say a word, but his expression tells Danny everything he needs to know.
Mitch’s expression says, I know it was you.