“I know. Our stories must be consistent.” Perhaps he had sounded a bit harsher than intended because he could see Andi’s shoulders slump from the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry, Andi. I didn’t mean to be nasty. I’m tired and hungry and pumped with adrenaline, and I still have no idea how you do what you do. I’m trying to be a good partner, and I know at the moment I’m not doing a great job of it.”
“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t dragged me to Norris demanding I be suspended as of last year. I’m not trying to be difficult or to shut you out. I’m just so used to being by myself it’s a hard habit to shake.”
George knew from the hint of desperation in Andi’s voice that this was all he would get at this point. Not wanting to aggravate his partner when they had so much work ahead of them, George decided to let it go for the moment. “I understand, Andi. As for our story, I assume what Forard said is your usual explanation?”
“It’s the easiest. I’ve learned it doesn’t pay to be creative. Everybody knows cops use the excuse of having heard something suspicious to go onto private property. Nobody thinks too much of it, especially not in an area with so many mansions around. It’s usually appreciated.”
George couldn’t argue with that logic. “Which leaves us with the question why we were out there in the first place.”
“And this is where it gets complicated. We had absolutely no reason to be here.” Andi sighed as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
“We could have gone on a meeting with a possible informant?” George made it sound like a question. This was new territory for him. Until now, he’d played by the rules, if for no other reason than to protect his future career from any skeletons in the closet. For a brief moment he wondered if corrupt cops felt like this all the time—this pressure to make things believable—but then he remembered they hadn’t done anything illegal. They just had to find an explanation for the unexplainable.
“Mmm. That could actually work.” Andi took out his cell and looked at it. “Yes, yes. We got an anonymous call, asking us to meet at a gas station a mile along the road. The caller never showed up, and after we’d waited for two hours, we were so frustrated we decided to stop at the rest area and go for a little hike to clear our heads. We went farther than planned, then heard the gunshot.”
George felt a little proud about his idea. “It also roughly fits the time frame.”
“It does. And if anybody asks why we didn’t call in immediately, we can say we wanted to investigate first. In an area like this, it could have been a hunter. Especially since we only heard that one shot.”
“It’d be a sad day if two detectives of the Charleston PD weren’t able to investigate a single shot on their own.” George grinned. This was not only plausible, it was airtight. He had a feeling Chief Norris wouldn’t look too closely at how they had gotten this breakthrough in their case, so long as the mayor was breathing down her neck, but it paid to be prepared for when she decided to act against Andi.
They made a quick stop at a diner close to the precinct to get some food and then headed to their desks, only to find out all the arrested had lawyered up immediately. The identities of the two men who had presented the victims were still unknown, and the owner of the house, Jake Castain, who was the mayor’s PA, was out of town until the next day.
Suddenly, all they could do was write their preliminary reports before heading back home. It was kind of anticlimactic, and they were debating whether they should go home immediately to get some much-needed sleep before facing the victims and culprits the next day. Andi wanted to stay for another half hour just in case something happened, which George could relate to, though not accept. He wanted to go home to his nice, cozy bed. Their discussion was gaining heat when Chief Norris opened the door to her office. “Detective Donovan, a word, please.”
George tensed, looked at Andi, who shrugged. There was no escaping this. “I’m coming, Chief.” He crossed the bullpen to the chief’s office, stepped inside, and closed the door before sitting down in front of her desk. For several minutes, neither of them spoke. George knew this tactic by heart—his mother was a master player—and the chief had yet to master the art of charging the atmosphere with enough intimidation to make her victims break. Lesser men may have given in, but George was carved from different wood. Finally, the chief relented.
“Tell me about the bust.”
George gathered his thoughts to give a brief yet accurate statement that left him some wriggling room when he wrote his report. “Detective Hayes and I got a call from an anonymous informant yesterday, asking us to meet at a gas station out in Berkeley County. We agreed and drove there this morning. Two hours after the set time, the informant still hadn’t shown himself, so we decided to drive back. We stopped again at a rest station about a mile and a half from the gas station to get some fresh air, since we were both frustrated. As you know, leads were slim in this case, and we thought a little walk would help us focus. We hiked a bit farther than intended, heard a shot, and went to investigate. It could have been a hunter, though we doubted it, because it was early afternoon. We thought it safer to check, and since we were already out there, it didn’t seem like a big deal. Then we found the Castain house and registered suspicious movement. Still not sure about what was going on, we watched the house, and shortly after, four limousines arrived. When we saw the children brought in, we called SWAT and here we are.”
Chief Norris stayed silent for so long, George started searching his impromptu report for possible holes. He couldn’t find any and decided to wait. It didn’t take long.
“So you want me to believe you went out to Berkeley County, of all places, to meet a mysterious informant, completely anonymous, of course, and just happened upon an orgy with fifteen kidnapped children?” The sarcasm in Chief Norris’s voice was scalding.
George shrugged. “Yes. Life can be funny like that.”
“Unlike you.” Chief Norris fiddled with a pen on her desk, a nervous habit George had seen several times already. “Detective Donovan, you’re aware I’ve read all of Detective Hayes’s reports? They’re full of these lucky coincidences, which is one of the reasons for our little arrangement. Do you want to try again?”
George held her gaze, outwardly completely cool, inwardly torn. If he kept up the lie, he would close a door with the chief. Not the last one—she still needed him, and he could always claim he’d still been investigating—but he was getting on her bad side by positioning himself more in Andi’s corner than hers. On the other hand, what good did telling her do? He had no clue how Andi had found out about the orgy, and until he did, why rock the boat of his blossoming partnership and endanger a huge case? One that would be a real feather in his cap if they could crack it—and for that, he undoubtedly needed Andi’s instinct, whatever it was. Of course, the suspicion of Andi having an unprofessional in with criminals was still on the table, and George wasn’t inclined to dismiss it just because the carrot of a potential huge solve was dangled in front of him. He just hadn’t any proof one way or another, and telling the chief of his musings would only complicate things if he had to backpedal later. As long as he only gave her the barest hints, he and his career were safest because there was nothing she could pin on him.
“Not really, Chief. All you need to know will be in the reports Detective Hayes and I will write. Was this all? Because Detective Hayes and I were thinking about calling it a night so we can have a fresh start tomorrow. Lots of people to interrogate.” This was a bit more forward than he would usually act in a situation like this, but he was itching to get back to Andi.
The chief furrowed her brows, clearly unhappy with him. “Go. I’m looking forward to your report.” She waved him out of the office, and George didn’t give her a chance to rethink her decision to let him go. He hurried over to their desks, where Andi was waiting for him, already dressed to leave.
“I figured you wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.”
“If we hadn’t discussed about when to leave instead of just going home, I wouldn’t have been summoned,” George bit out with a little too much force to still be a joke. Andi was either too tired to notice or very good at ignoring George’s anger because he simply handed him his keys and went for the exit. Instead of going to his own car, like he had planned in the morning, Andi went to George’s. The automatic gesture struck a chord in George’s heart, not hard enough to completely quell the mix of anger, exhaustion, and general indecision in his mind, but it made him relent and simply get in his car without calling Andi’s attention to his own ride.
Ten minutes later George pulled up in front of Andi’s house, the drive by now familiar. Andi opened the door, turned to him. “Thank you for driving me.” He hesitated, some kind of inner debate showing on his face. George waited. “What did she want from you?”
It came out in a low tone, devoid of any emotion. Somehow that made George’s anger flare again. “She wanted to know what happened, as is her right as chief. She also hinted at knowing that our cover story is made up.” He held up his hand when he saw Andi opening his mouth. “Don’t worry. Yes, she’s read all your reports, and yes, she is suspicious of all the lucky coincidences you had over the years. That said, she needs us to solve this case, so she won’t go digging too deep, and as you said, our explanation is solid. Not much she can do.”
“That’s not all, though, am I right?” Andi was definitely psychic. George was sure of it.
“Nothing important.” George tried to sound dismissive. Andi tensed.
“I need to know, George. I took a risk when I let you tag along. Don’t make me regret it.” The words hit a little too close to home to not have an impact on George. He felt his anger bubbling to the surface.
