“No, they’re not the sharpest tools in the drawer, which could be one reason the chief chose them to take over from us. And giving them the information now means we’re admitting to having worked the case despite being on leave. I don’t know about you, but I have no intention of giving the chief even more ammunition against us.”
George sighed. “No, that wouldn’t be smart. Are we going to that meeting?”
The question was rhetorical; of course they would be going to the meeting. After everything they had found out so far, they couldn’t afford not to go.
“Yes, we are. And we need to have all our evidence lined up perfectly because depending on what we find, shit’s going to hit the fan big-time. I’m not entirely sure about the legalities when we report something we have stumbled upon during our leave, but if this turns out to be as big a bust as my gut is telling me, then we need enough evidence to justify warrants for all those detectives and officers. IA is going to have a field day.”
George rubbed his face with his palm. “I’m still not sure about not contacting at least them now. Sure, they said they would wait to not endanger our case, but technically it isn’t our case anymore….”
“Let them wait. It’s only one more day. After tomorrow evening, we either have the case solved or are permanently off it. Then Merrigold and Vargas can worry about it.”
Andi may sound nonchalant, but George could hear the tension in his voice. They had to find something tomorrow.They had to. It wasn’t just their careers on the line, it was also the lives of countless children and youths who would keep vanishing without a trace if they didn’t catch the assholes responsible for it all. George stared at the maps on the wall, at the pins representing a person who was missing, some of them probably, surely already dead.
“Let’s put our files into some kind of order. Then we need some sleep.”
Andi nodded his agreement, and they went to work.
Chapter 27—Tightening the Web
SLEEP HADbeen evasive for both of them, and while Andi did a long round of yoga to center himself, George called his brother Danny to get some distraction. The call had been short because Danny was on a case as well and George hadn’t wanted to relay all that had happened, especially the part with the unpaid leave, but hearing his brother’s voice and doing some light bantering had helped soothe his nerves quite a bit.
Now they were getting ready to hide close to the spot written down on Castain’s secret paper in the wall. Andi had even gone so far as to officially declare the whole thing as following the tip of an anonymous informant, of which he seemed to have quite a few. George could admire the simple beauty of that move. Should nothing come of tonight, they could write it off as faulty information. Should they succeed, they had a credible reason to have been there, which made the explaining a lot easier than having to come up with excuses afterward.
The unpaid leave and them officially being withdrawn from the case made things a little more complicated, but since they were not suspended, they could say the tip had not been specific. Imagine their surprise when it turned out to be related to their former case. George just hoped whatever they would find tonight would be grave enough to distract people, especially lawyers, from looking too closely. Or so damning there would be no question as to the culpability of the people they were hopefully going to arrest. Plus, the equipment they “borrowed” with the help of Shireen would be officially accounted for, which made things a bit more legit, because someone had known they were taking it. Well, someone would know about the other day because Shireen had taken the equipment to them and “forgotten” to forward the paperwork. It was almost above board. Close to it. Definitely not as shady as putting a tracker on Castain’s car without official permission.
George hoped they were getting lucky, because if not, they would have to step on the toes of a hell of a lot of other precincts to perhaps crack the case open—if they still had a job then.
Andi was holstering his weapon with a determined gleam in his eyes. He was looking better than four days ago, when George had feared he would collapse before he could get him into bed. The lines of exhaustion permanently etched around his eyes were still there, though a little less prominent than when George had first met him. He felt himself hoping it had something to do with Andi having him as a partner, not because he was vain, but because he really wanted to help this man who seemed not to have had somebody in his corner for far too long. He also had no problem admitting that he liked Andi’s dark, witty humor and pitch-black sarcasm. In fact, Andi was the first partner George could see himself with for longer than his usual one or two years.
“Hey, stop dreaming and get moving! We have to be in position well before the meeting is supposed to happen.”
Politeness wasn’t part of Andi’s vocab. George would have been surprised if the man knew how to spell the word. He holstered his own weapon and grabbed the car keys. The thrill of the hunt was slowly building in his veins, adrenaline flooding every cell in his body, making him overly aware of his surroundings. Even though George knew this was simple chemistry, a trait that had kept their ancestors alive in a hostile world, and not a special gift like Andi’sgeschenk, he still wondered if this feeling came anywhere close to what Andi was experiencing on a daily basis. Even if not, it still gave George an insight as to what Andi’s world looked like. Imagining being wired like this all the time, with no chance to turn it off—George shuddered. He was sure it’d take a stronger man than him to deal with such circumstances.
“I’m coming. Let’s get those bastards behind bars.”
“Or six feet under.”
Since George was almost a hundred percent sure Andi was joking, he refrained from acknowledging those words. Why look for trouble when he was pretty sure trouble would find him soon anyway?
They got into the car and drove to Goose Creek, bypassing the empty parking lot where the meeting was supposed to go down. They had scouted the area the day before and had found the perfect spot to hide their car. Across from the parking lot was an abandoned factory building with shattered windows and crumbling brick walls. All the streetlights on that side of the road were dead, bathing the parking lot in a pattern of shadows of various depth. No doubt the sparse lighting was the reason this place had been picked as a meeting spot, but in this case, it worked in their favor as well. George parked in the deep shadow of an open gate and got his nightscope and the directional microphone out,officialcourtesy of Shireen. Both had a black finish so as not to accidentally betray their user’s position through a reflection. He handed the microphone to Andi, who rolled down the window and adjusted it to the right direction. George did a quick sweep of the area with his nightscope, finding everything clear. Now for the hard part—the waiting.
They hadn’t spoken during the ride here, both of them too preoccupied with what was hopefully the break in the case they needed so badly. Even though they weren’t talking, sitting together in the car felt intimate in a different way than being with a lover. For one, there was a more violent undercurrent in the air, making the hair on his nape stand up. Stakeouts had a similar feel, but with the added tension of being on the hunt, George felt primal. As if the two of them were a pack out to get the prey. Of course this, too, was an easily explained phenomenon, the psychological dynamics painfully obvious and the reason why team building adventures worked so well. And still George couldn’t suppress a feeling that with Andi, it was different. The connection felt deeper, rawer, as if it wasn’t just the hunt binding them together. Perhaps it was because he had already taken care of Andi twice when he was defenseless or because he knew he could count on him to cover bases George wouldn’t even realize were there without him. He glanced over at Andi, who was either as deep in thought as he had been or ready to fall asleep. George was willing to bet on the second. His partner didn’t get enough rest.
“Everything okay?” He looked out of the window again, not wanting Andi to think he was worried—which he wasn’t.
“Yeah. I was just… checking in with my other informants.”
George snorted. “Nice euphemism. Is this going to be our thing? Finding ways to paraphrase the fact you’re talking to insects?”
Without turning his body, Andi hit him square in the chest. “Nothing will ever beat your awkward hand gesturing in combination with that squint as if you’re trying to get a shit done and nothing’s coming out.”
George placed a hand on his chest, waving the nightscope with the other. “I’m wounded! There’s nothing awkward about the way I move. I’m grace personified.”
Andi just snorted, giving him an eye roll worthy of every teenager in the whole world. “You’re about as graceful as a penguin on land.” He stroked George’s arm as if he wanted to console him. George knew better and was prepared for the barb that followed. “But you make up for it by being really funny, even though often involuntary. That’s why I’ve decided to keep you.”
“I’m not sure if I should feel honored or insulted. I think I’ll go for both. Penguin, my ass.”
Andi opened his mouth to give a retort, when they both heard the rumbling of an approaching vehicle. All of a sudden, the outbreak of playful nervousness was gone, replaced by laser-sharp focus.
