Langston choked on his burger, coughing violently! Everett quickly got up and patted his back, "Easy there, cowboy. Ain't no one gonna rustle that burger from ya." "I'm fine!" Langston waved him off, avoiding Everett's gaze.
At first, Everett was genuinely concerned about the choking hazard, but Langston's shifty behavior tipped him off that something was amiss.
He was trying to play it cool, but the more he did, the more it screamed that there was something fishy.
But this time, Everett didn't go for the direct approach. Instead, he played it off like he hadn't noticed a thing and finished the meal as if everything was normal.
He knew Langston was onto his old tricks, but there were plenty more tricks up his sleeve.
Let Dorothy start working at the Lopez Corporation first. The rest... well, they would cross that bridge when they come to it.
At the hospital, Jeffrey showed no signs of improvement.
The deep gash across his face was beyond healing, leaving a scar that would never fade. The multiple fractures throughout his body posed no threat to his life, but any thoughts of manual labor or heavy lifting in his future were dashed.
The only silver lining was that his condition hadn't worsened.
Paloma’s eyes were swollen from crying, and she had fainted more than once. Eventually, Huxley had to strong-arm her back to the hotel to rest, leaving him to stand vigil alone.
When Heather arrived, she found Huxley staring at the ICU sign, lost in thought.
She balanced a bunch of stuff in her arms and composed herself before approaching.
"Huxley." He stood up when he saw her, though not with the warmth he reserved for Everett. His demeanor was cooler, almost frosty.
"Yeah, you're here." "I came to see how Jeffrey's doing. Is he better?" Huxley nodded grimly, "Just waiting on the doc and see if surgery is needed.” "Ah, Huxley, you're not in the best shape yourself. How about I come by after my shift to keep watch? I'm free anyway, and you and Paloma should get some rest at the hotel.” "It's okay. I'm worried someone might try to harm my boy." Huxley's words were blunt as a hammer.
He figured if Heather was innocent, she wouldn't take offense. But if she were up to something, she needed to hear this straight.
Sure enough, he caught a fleeting look of discomfort crossing Heather's face.
"Huxley, didn't the cops say it was an accident? No one's out to get Jeffrey!" "That's debatable. My son's a straight shooter, not a sly fox. He might've rubbed someone the wrong way. Didn't you say it yourself? Jeffrey had a habit of sticking his nose in your business with Everett. I've told him off for it, but he never listens. Said he considered both of you friends and couldn't ignore trouble." "Jeffrey's a good guy. I know his nature!" Huxley gave her a pointed look, a smile playing on his lips, "Right. Speaking of which, I wanted to ask you about something. I heard my son had a spat with you at the Lopez Corporation right before he drove off. What was that all about?" "Just... work stuff." "Really? ‘Cause what I heard didn't sound like a work chat." Huxley coughed lightly, waving it off, "Anyway, if you don't want to talk to me about it, I'll let Everett take a gander when he gets here. I just found it out myself and didn't get the chance to tell him.
Thought I'd ask you since you're here first.” The implication was clear as day; he didn't buy Heather's story one bit.
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