When secrets get told…
LEMON
Bentley relented his argument with Marisol, and we took our conversation somewhere more private. Unknown to me, the resort had some small conference rooms, and Marisol brought us to one.
“Lemon, Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he asked as the door closed, and we were left alone.
“You should sit,” I said, motioning to the chair next to me as I sat. “This is going to be a lot.”
“What could possibly be going on that is so serious?” Bentley questioned.
“I know where they are. Both of them. Well, not exactly where, but in a general sense. And there are some things I need to explain before I tell you where they went,” I told him.
“Okay, you went from ready to kill to cryptic. I need an explanation,” he said, sitting down finally.
With a sigh, I
