Lola cackles, slapping her hand on the steering wheel. Amara’s lips curl in a half-smile as her cheeks flush pink, and she gazes out the window, her brown hair cascading around her face.
As I drive away from Amara's house, I can feel the weight of my responsibilities at the station settling back onto my shoulders. I still have a lot of shit to do. We have made no headway in determining who shot me last night. Every lead we follow ends up being a dead end.
With what feels like the weight of the world on my shoulders, I climb out of my car and make my way into the station. My shoulder aches, but the pain is nothing new to me. It’s something I’m familiar with. From a young age, I have found that pain is an effective way to keep myself centered and focused.
Sitting behind my desk, I feel the rough texture of the manila folders as I pick up the files on the missing girls that fit Salena’s description. There are precisely seven girls missing from nearby states, aged between sixteen and twenty-eight. All having disappeared in the last six months. I meticulously dissect every detail, analyzing each file, then sit back in my chair, feeling the wheels creaking underneath me. As I scan the station, I notice Betty is the only person here. She works the night shift at the front desk.
I look out the window and notice night has fallen while I had my head buried in all the files and photos scattered across the desk. I’ve managed to miss lunch and dinner. Besides picking up Lola, I’ve spent hours reviewing these files. The frustration builds as I let out a deep sigh, realizing that today has been a complete waste. I wonder where Sander is? I find it odd that he hasn't come looking for me yet.
I stare down at everything on the table in front of me and growl, frustration getting the better of me. I need a break. I push away from my desk and head for one of the private rooms where Sander has set up shop to work his way through video feeds on the street cameras. We also have a list of residences with security cameras in the area.
Sander is still here going over information with me. He offered to call in help from Portland, but I didn’t think we needed help. What we need is for these guys to fuck up and leave a clue.
“Anything?” I say, pushing open the door.
Sander doesn’t look up from his laptop when he answers me. “Nothing yet.”
I make my way to the window and notice the eerie stillness of the street as I look out into the darkness. What are we missing?
Sander sighs, pushing his chair away from the table and rubbing his eyes. “I can’t find anything but a fucking shadow.”
I spin on him. “What?”
“There’s a shadow that’s standing just off to the side of the street camera.”
“Show me,” I demand.
Sander swiftly taps the keys and brings up footage from the camera down the street from my house. I see Salena knocking on my door, me following her down the path, then Sander pauses it and points.
The camera offers a sharp-angled view of the street, but the front yards are mostly obscured. I move my gaze to the outskirts of the neighboring yard, and I see someone standing there, just beyond the trees. The lack of light makes it impossible to make out any details. It’s too dark and too far away. Whoever they are, they stayed mostly hidden a few feet in the shadows of the trees. We wouldn’t have known they were there at all.
Sander hits play, and I watch as he or she stands there with statue-like stillness, a predator watching its prey. Then slowly they lift their arm, a gun in hand, and fire, then step into the shadows and meld into the night.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
I stand, running my hand over my head, staring at the computer. “Wait, go back. I want to see something.”
Frowning, Sander rewinds before hitting play, and I watch again. “There.” I point at the screen. “Zoom in as much as you can.”
Sander zooms in on the person, and I focus. There’s a second as they lift the gun that the hand is bathed in light. The hand firing the gun is covered in tattoos. Sander and I share a glance. It’s a lead. Our only lead.
Milo taps twice on the door, poking his head inside. “Hey, Sinclair. Report’s come in of suspicious activity down at the old mill.”
My eyes dart up to Milo. He wouldn’t mention something like this unless I needed to know. This is something the uniform officers would deal with. I stand and grab my jacket, Sander following suit.
Chapter Forty One
Salena
Ifinishlightingthelast flaming Dr. Pepper shooter, smiling at the three young men who all wear looks of apprehension, when a searing pain radiates through my chest. I stumble, my hand going to my chest, as I rub at the strange sensation. What was that?
Another sharp pain takes me to my knees, my body becoming uncomfortably warm. I can hear shouts, but can’t make out the words as my body is filled with sharp stabbing pains. Blinding white light flashes in front of my eyes. A scream is trapped inside my throat, my breath coming out in ragged gasps. Next thing I know, I’m being swung up into Kai’s arms and raced out the back door. Felix and Mercy following closely behind.
“Salena, what’s wrong?” Kai’s desperate voice penetrates the pain. He gently sets me down on the ground, and I can feel the chill of the icy ground through my jeans. I hold up my palm for them to wait. I take several deep breaths and close my eyes, trying to concentrate on where the pain is coming from. In my mind, I follow the pain down my pack link.
“Lola,” I breathe.
