Lucas hadn’t letme interrogate O’Connor as quickly as I wanted, saying “If you want clear answers, give him a minute.”
The problem was Peyton didn’t have any minutes to waste.
“What happened?” I asked.
Pete, Constance, and Lucas were with me and the detective at one end of the long conference room table.
Jordy had set up at the other end to do his computer shit and follow any lead we got.
O’Connor scratched at his chest where he’d been tased. “Damn, this still hurts.” He took in a long breath. “The guy Tasered me as soon as I came out of the bathroom. I didn’t have a chance to draw my gun.”
“Why did you leave Pay… Leighton alone?” Pete asked before I got the chance.
“I didn’t. She needed to go to the bathroom, and I wasn’t going to join her in the ladies’ bathroom, that would be creepy. So, I went to use the mens’ room certain I’d finish before her.”
I calmed my voice. “Why didn’t you wait for us?”
“There was no telling how long you would be, and she’s the one who insisted.” He leaned forward, agitated. “What was I supposed to do? Tell her no?”
“Was she still in the bathroom?” Constance asked.
“I assume so. I mean I took a quick piss and then got jumped. I couldn’t move after the Taser. The asshole pulled out a syringe and stabbed me in the neck. That’s the last thing I remember.” He rubbed the injection site that Pete had found.
“When was this? How long after Zane told you he was leaving the office?” Lucas asked.
“Right away. She mentioned it as soon as you left,” he said, looking at me.
“What did this guy look like?”
“There were two of them.”
“Two?” Pete asked.
O’Connor nodded. “A big bald guy, a wrestler type, Tasered me, and was in my face to drug me. The other guy walked by when I was on the ground. I didn’t get a good look at him. All I got was medium height, brown hair. I didn’t see his face. Both of them were dressed in black. That’s about it.”
“What about the bald guy’s face? Any identifying—” Constance asked.
Marci burst in. “Peyton’s on the phone.”
I launched out of my chair. “Which phone?”
Marci backed out of my way. “Her desk.”
Hope filled me as I bolted to the door.
Lucas did too. “Pete, stay.”
As I turned down the hallway, I heard O’Connor ask, “Who’s Peyton?”
Lucas followed as I sprinted for Peyton’s desk.
When I reached the desk and picked up the phone, the warble told the story. “Peyton? Peyton?” No response. “Shit. The line’s dead.”
Lucas pointed at the buttons on the phone. “Which line is that?”
“The main company number,” Marci answered. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked with obvious distress.
“No, you did fine.” Lucas raced back to the conference room, and I followed.
