Garcia practically shoved his wife out of the way as he lunged for his phone.
“Jesus Christ, watch out. It’s just a phone call,” she whined.
He swatted one palm as if his wife’s voice was the annoying buzz of a mosquito.
“Yes?” He said into the phone. His voice was calm even if he was not.
“I have the girl.”
The tension he’d been carrying oozed out of his body. He closed his eyes for a brief second in a moment that would have been a prayer of thanks if he were the praying type.
A small smile curled his lip. It would be okay.
“Bring her to me.”
Only after Garcia hung up did he wonder why the caller had said “I” instead of “we.”