My dad scribbles on a paper, places it in front of the girl, and she reads it off. “Downtown.”
“Take the subway to Columbus Circle. I’ll find you there. Don’t screw up. This is your last chance.” The line buzzes, indicating the end of the call.
Shit. We don’t have much time.
The police usher Chrissy to a van and wire her up while O’Rourke gives her instructions. “Get her to admit she moved the body. And, if you can, have her discuss the other girls.”
“Wait. How will talking about them clear me of Akash’s murder?” Her brows furrow and simultaneously his lift, causing wrinkles in his forehead.
“You were never a suspect. We just wanted to ask you a few questions.”
Her eyes pop wider, still. “But you guys were chasing us.”
“It wasn’t one of my men.” The detective’s eyes narrow.
“But my-”
Andy shuts her up with a finger to her lips. “He said you’re not going to be arrested. Best we leave it there.”
I want to ride with the police, but my dad insists no civilians allowed. Grumbling, I head back to the visitor’s lounge where the guys seem upbeat.
“Let’s go.” Slate leads me, Andy, and Suds to a beat-up delivery van with an open back door.
Hands, behind the wheel, drives us north while the Patten boss hands everyone a tiny comm unit. When I stick it in my ear, I realize he placed a bug in their vehicle.
“So, you’ll come and get me if I mention the weather, right?” Chrissy sounds worried and the techie who answers reassures her.
“That’s your out.”
