“I agree.” Hockley’s smile became almost natural. “Not that you shouldn’t trust me, but I absolutely agree you should trust her. Be loyal to her. And, to be honest, I think it’s important that you be her friend too.” He paused, waiting for a response Jericho was completely incapable of giving.
What the hell is he up to?
“Can I buy you breakfast?” Hockley seemed . . . genuine?
Jericho finally found his power of speech. “Are you coming on to me, Special Agent Hockley?”
“Simon,” Hockley said. “My name’s Simon. And, no, I’m not coming on to you. But I would like to talk to you about something not strictly related to the current business. Something I’d like to discuss in a private setting, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, that still sounds like you’re coming on to me.”
“This is serious, Jer— May I call you Jericho?”
“Andstillit feels like a come-on. So, no ‘Jericho.’ No ‘Jay,’ and no ‘Sweetie Pie.’ Seriously, what’s going on?”
“It’s about Kayla, Mr. Crewe. I’m worried about her, and I’d like you to help me look out for her. Now, can we meet somewhere that isn’t in her building?”
What the hell? Hockley was trying to be an ally? A friend? Damn it, life would be easier if Jericho could just smart-ass his way out of this situation, whatever the hell it was. But Hockley was a fed, and the feds were freezing Kayla out of their investigation for an unknown reason. Regardless of Hockley’s motivations, if he was willing to talk, Jericho was definitely going to listen. “We can have breakfast. But we have to make a stop, first.”
It was comforting to see Nicolette and Elijah treat Hockley with even more disdain than they showed for Jericho. “That’s not a real gun,” Elijah confided to Jericho as they walked down the cracked asphalt of the house’s driveway. He was scoffing at Hockley’s hip.
“It’s real,” Jericho corrected firmly. “Assume all guns are real, and all guns are dangerous if you’re not careful. Understand?”
“How do we know it’s real? Will he shoot it?”
“Only if I have to,” Hockley interrupted, but Elijah acted as if he hadn’t heard a word. Damn, the kid was only six years old and he was already better at giving attitude than Jericho was.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Jericho said, and he crouched down next to Elijah. “I want you to think of something else you like. Somethingotherthan guns. And no tanks, or fighter jets or whatever. I want you to think of something that isn’t designed to kill anybody. And whatever that second-most-favorite thing is? You tell me what it is, and I will work hard to get you a chance to play with it, or work with it, or whatever. But only if you stop asking me about guns all the time.”
Elijah squinted at him and opened his mouth, but Jericho raised a hand. “Don’t answer yet. You need to think about it. You can tell me the next time you see me, okay?”
“When’s that going to be?”
“I don’t know. But your mom has my phone number. If you think of a good idea and you don’t see me for a while, you can give me a call and let me know. Okay?”
“Why doesheget that?” Nicolette demanded. They were at the cruiser now, and Jericho tried not to think about how he might be establishing patterns for their futures as he helped them into the backseat. “What about me?”
Yup, Jericho should have seen that coming. “Okay, you can think ofyourmost favorite thing too. Not guns or anything illegal, and we’ll have the same deal.”
He checked their seat belts and then shut the door, and looked over the roof of the car to see Hockley smirking at him. “You’re going to have a lot of fun at the Disney Princesses show.”
“Are you kidding? Nicolette? She’d probably rather go to some death metal concert.”
Hockley’s smirk turned into a rueful grin, and Jericho almost grinned back before he caught himself. “We need to stop at the grocery store to buy them lunch. If you think you’re safe, you can stay in the car with them while I go in.”
“This is a car designed to transport dangerous felons,” Hockley said dryly.
“These two could slither through the bars. But like I said, if you feel safe, it’d be quicker for me to go in on my own.”
“We’ll be fine,” Hockley assured him, and Jericho didn’t argue. He did keep it quick at the grocery store, and made it to the car and then to the school without any serious trauma.
“Your mom’s back on for after school,” he told the kids, trying not to wonder where she’d spent the night. “But the school has my number. If she doesn’t make it, ask them to give me a call.”
The kids scooted out of the squad car, and Nicolette made a big show of sneering in Hockley’s direction, and then they ran to the playground to find their friends.
“Were you like that at their age?” Hockley asked.
“I might have been,” Jericho admitted. ”But that’s not what we’re supposed to be talking about. What’s going on with Kay?”
