We saw the photo.
We’ll be back tomorrow.
Leave us a message.
Tell us how we can help.
AA
“Perfect,” Raye whispered.
I moved to the fridge and took my life in my hands by opening it (uh…yeah, as I suspected, the interior was no fun) and setting the note on a shelf.
After I closed the door, Shanti whispered, “Let’s bolt. I need, like, seven showers after being under that bed.”
I didn’t want to scare her by commenting on how many dust motes were in her hair, so I kept my mouth shut.
We left the house, found a wobbly gate to the alley that was unlocked, went through it and ran like hell to the car.
FOURTEEN
HE’S OURS
I was sitting on the red-with-black-piping sofa at AAHQ, staring at the picture of Amy Small we had projected on the back wall.
I’d already texted Gabe to let him know we were good, and after a debrief at HQ, I’d be home.
Yep.
Not thinking, I used the word “home” to describe his loft, where I’d been only once.
Thus, I had a minor freakout about that wee snafu, until Gabe texted back a casual, CU soon.
I was a full word texter, but since he texted right back, ended his with the double-heart-with-swoops-around-it emoji, and didn’t act weirded out I called his place “home,” I decided I was okay with Gabe being a minimalist texter.
Raye and Shanti were at the back desk, clacking on the computer, looking at the stuff we’d requested from Arthur, and he’d delivered.
Gem was sitting beside me on the couch, also staring at the picture of Amy.
It was hard to look at.
She’d seriously been roughed up.
But something seemed…off about it.
I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was.
The door slid up, but no one was surprised, since we’d gotten a text from Harlow they’d completed their search and were on their way.
I looked over the back of the couch to see Tex amble in first.
They’d pulled him in because Amy’s apartment was on the second floor, the stairs going right to her front door. Therefore, no access to jimmy windows and no back door, so they needed someone who could pick a lock.
And, as suspected, Tex could do that.
While the others pulled down the door after they entered, he looked around then homed in on the beverage fridge.
He went there, pulled out a bottle of San Pelligrino, and we all watched as he cracked it open, put it to his lips and guzzled it whole like he was shotgunning a beer.
