As I eat my sandwich, I compile a list of questions for my next deposition, pushing through the fatigue to organize my thoughts on the case. But my pace slows, my mind returning constantly to Zack’s situation. We’ve tracked Ray’s finances to Alpha Cash, but someone somewhere has to have a lead on the physical operations.
I return my plate to the counter and then head out the door, but the moment I hit the sidewalk my alpha senses tingle. I swing around, studying the home-going sunset crowd. As I scan the street, irritation and fear swell through me in equal measure, stripping away the faint inner warmth the food gave me.
A familiar face lurks in the approaching crowd, and I sigh with relief. Jackson, the wiry tech dealer from Dodge’s crew, doesn’t meet my eyes as his steps bring him close enough to bump shoulders with me. When I swing back, he reaches out to steady me, slipping a piece of paper in my pocket.
“Good luck,” he whispers. Then the cheeky bastard grabs a feel of my ass and walks away.
Shaking my head, I follow the sidewalk to the hotel. In my room, I toss my laptop bag on the bed and toe off my shoes. I really ought to buy some furniture and move into the new place I bought, but it feels too difficult with everything else going on. Or maybe that’s simply the excuse I keep leaning on. Maybe the truth is, I don’t want to move into a cold, empty apartment by myself again. I had a taste of the good life, and now everything else feels hollow.
I dig out the note and read the message from Dodge.
Tracked the lead to a mechanic workshop at 1034 Dugil Street in Cadence, East Laversham. Suspicious activity inc excessive power consumption and high vehicle turnover.
My heart leaps, and I grab my phone, calling Leroy right away to convey the information.
“Where’d this address come from?” he asks.
“Um, an anonymous tip,” I blurt. A faint shakiness quivers beneath my sternum. If I’m discovered to be in a contract with criminals, I’ll end up in the cell next to Zack’s. “Maybe someone felt guilty because Red and Rickon went public about Zack being in prison,” I explain. “Or because of what happened at the courthouse.” It’s plausible; the news outlets ran wild with the story.
“Hmm, all right. I’ll look into it,” the assistant director says, a foreboding tone in his voice. “If we find anything, I’ll get the task force moving right away.” Even if my story sounds suspicious, he wants this matter closed faster than I do.
“Good luck,” I tell him, breathing a sigh of relief.
After hanging up the phone, I stand in the middle of the room, staring at the lifeless hotel suite. And I finally admit to myself how lonely I am. For years I’ve run from my own emotions, burying them in work, but now it’s like someone’s peeled theblinkers back from my eyes. Zack’s trapped in a cell, while Rickon and Red sleep in a tent on the side of the road just to be closer to their missing alpha.
And I know precisely how they feel.
I want to get another apartment in the same building as my old place, just so I can run into them in the lobby occasionally by accident.
As if the universe hears me, my phone vibrates with a call from Ricky.
“Hey,” I answer, my heart pounding. We resolved the fight we had over his bond, but the other, more intimate things hang between us, unresolved.
“Hi, Calli. How’s things?” His sweet voice makes me feel weak in the knees.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say “busy” but I stop. Rickon already knows my hectic schedule, and I don’t want to fob him off with small talk. “I—” I lick my dry lips and sit down on a corner of the bed. “I really miss you both,” I admit. All three of them, if I’m honest. Even though Zack’s a pain in the ass, nobody’s bored around him.
Silence stretches down the line.
“Are you in the tent?” I ask, drumming my fingers on my knee.
“Yeah,” Ricky replies, a little breathy. “The prison transport bus went by today, and Zack waved at us out the window.”
I chuckle, trying to picture the big alpha waving like a schoolboy.
Ricky clears his throat. “So, I couldn’t see properly, but it looked like he had an inmate pinned over his seat. Thought you should know.”
“Fuck.” A laugh escapes me. “Why am I not surprised?”
Rickon chuckles too, but he sounds brittle.
“Did something else happen?” I ask.
“Kinda. I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but Clarissa showed up the other day at the press conference.”
Rage chokes my throat. How dare that selfish bitch show her face to Ricky again after all these years? And she ignored my warning. “I’ll get the restraining order started tomorrow,” I promise through gritted teeth, wishing I could do more.
“Thanks,” he says wearily.
