The low chuckle from Detective Compton didn’t put me at ease. “Mr. Fitzpatrick, I’m afraid we’ll need you to come into the station. We have an ID on the body in your trunk. Can you be here at two o’clock?”
I glanced through the windows in front of the Russell Office Building to see Jericho standing next to the car from the sedan service. He motioned for me to come out, and I took a deep breath. “Okay, Detective. We’ll be there at two.”
I ended the call and walked out the entrance and down the stairs to where Jeri stood with the rear car door open for me. I stepped closer to him. “Anything happen while you were sitting in the lobby earlier?”
Jericho chuckled. “Not that I noticed. You’ll have to tell me what the hell that call was about. Now, where to?”
I exhaled. “I need to go to the Indiana Street Police Station. They’ve figured out the identity of the body in my trunk.”
Jeri slid into the car next to me and closed the door. “Call your lawyer, Sean. You need representation for this so they don’t try to implicate you for something you didn’t do.”
I didn’t doubt his advice, but a part of me said that if I were innocent, wouldn’t it look bad if I had a lawyer with me? Wouldn’t that make me look guilty?
Jeri’s hand settled on my thigh. “Don’t overthink this, Sean. You need to be very careful. Like I said, call your lawyer.”
I sighed as I pulled my phone from my pocket and scrolled through the messages with Spencer Brady. The last one was the contact for a friend of his who was an incredible defense lawyer.
I hit the button and put the phone on speaker as the driver headed to the Indiana Avenue substation where Compton and Mathers worked.
“Isaac Rose Firm. How may I direct your call?”
“Sean Fitzpatrick for Mr. Rose. I need him to meet me at the Metropolitan Police substation on Indiana Avenue.”
The weight of what I’d just said settled on my shoulders, and my heart raced. Fuck if I wanted to go to jail, especially for something I didn’t do. I had no idea who was in the trunk of my car, but if it was someone I knew, I was going to fucking freak out.
My hands flew into my hair—a bad habit of pulling it out by the roots had developed when I was a kid and had persisted intoadulthood. For fuck’s sake, I was forty, and I was still pulling out my hair?
Suddenly, the phone was jerked from my hands. “Hello?”
I turned to Jericho and reached for the phone, and when he slapped my hands, I laughed. “What the fuck?”
“Yes, Mr. Fitzpatrick. I’m trying to locate Mr. Rose.”
“This is Jericho Hess. Tell Mr. Rose to show up at the Indiana Avenue substation at two. Thank you.”
Jeri ended the call and tossed my phone onto the seat. “You have a very commanding personality. Why aren’t you taking charge of this bullshit?”
His words surprised me. I stared out the window to my right, asking myself the same damn question. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in this position before. I don’t know what to do.”
Jeri turned to me and smirked. “That’s bullshit and you know it, Red. Maybe you’ve never shot anyone before, but you’ve taken them down. Gather that energy and use it.”
I turned to my left to see that gorgeous man was dead serious. I sighed. “I’ll try. Will you come in with me?”
I’d never been so damn scattered—or needy—before in my fucking life. I was always the one who directed others to do my bidding, but suddenly, I was flailing. Never in my life had I been so fucking lost.
“Of course I’ll come in with you. Take a few deep breaths and try to center yourself. Close your eyes and think about—”
“Is this some kind of guru shit you learned in rehab?” Something about the situation made me want to laugh. It was funny that I didn’t seem to have a problem with Jeri telling me what to do. That was a fucking first.
“You don’t like the guru shit I learned in the hospital and in rehab?” His tone was light, which was a relief. I never wanted to offend the cowboy in the least. He was…amazing.
I chuckled. “I’m more of a realist, I’m afraid. I’m not one to speculate about the future. I don’t think any of us know what’s coming at us.”
Jericho took my hand. “Sean, I’m here to protect you, not aggravate you. Tell me what’s wrong.”
I had no idea how to answer him. Once, I thought I’d figured out everything. That was until my car blew up in the basement of my office building.
Now? Nothing was certain.
