You hired who!?

Enrique Ockendo cursed.

“Shana!”

“Yes, Boss.”

“You the one responsible for recruitment after Earl died?”

Shana shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Uh-huh. Is there a problem?”

“How did you decide who to hire?”

Shana bit her lower lip. “The usual. Asked around Dexter’s. Found out who was best. Took them on.”

“Did you meet all of them personally?” Enrique was no longer shouting. His tone was low and Shana strained to hear him over the clamour of Dexter’s patrons.

“Yes. I mean, I guess so.”

“Every single one? Even – ” Enrique picked up a sheet of paper from the desk and squinted in the gloom, “- Ernesto Zapata?”

Shana didn’t answer.

“Well? Did you?”

“I guess not, Boss.”

“I should damn well hope not,” Enrique shouted. “The man’s a freaking quadriplegic. He may have been the best damned deathracer in Somerset, but now he has to have a nursemaid just to scratch his own arse.”

Shana mumbled something under her breath.

“What’s that?” asked Enrique .

“He might get better.”

“He might get better?” roared Enrique . “He might get better?” He screwed up the piece of paper and flung it at Shana. “You’d goddamn better hope he will. Get him over to Elms and see if they can work their magic on him. And if they can’t, don’t bother coming back.”