“A visit you arranged,” Bishop pointed out, then winced. That was a mistake.
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Paula snapped, and hung up.
Bishop rubbed the bridge of his nose. He felt sluggish. Caught off guard. He usually kept his head in an emergency, but he didn’t even know if this was an emergency.
At least he wasn’t alone. Kit thumped downstairs, a clinking basket of god knew how many mugs in his arms. Kit gave one searching look to the TV, then to Bishop, before heading into the kitchen.
Kit and the others were keeping it together. Bishop needed to step up.
“Friend of yours?” Darius asked.
“Paula,” Bishop said. “Somebody might have told her to call me. Shit. Turn that back up.”
The news had switched to a reporter outside SCPD headquarters. “We’ve been told the fugitives were last seen near the Apricot Station bus stop. There will be a press conference soon, including—”
James put his phone to his ear next.
“Do you have cameras near Apricot Station?” Bishop asked.
“Hundreds. I’m still pissed we missed the prison contract, but—” Seamlessly, James transitioned to his charismatic CEO voice. “Has SCPD reached out to us yet?”
As his subordinate answered, James moved to Darius’s bedroom for quiet. From the kitchen, the coffeemaker started rumbling.
“Something’s not right,” Bishop said, hands tightening on the back of the couch. He didn’t remember getting so far into the living room. Like the news had drawn him magnetically forward.
Darius lowered the TV volume again. He was the only one still in the room, not yet launching into action. Making coffee. Checking cameras. Darius was keeping an eye on Bishop.
“Is Archie just running as far as he can?” Darius asked. “Or is he on a mission?”
Bishop didn’t know enough. He should be getting intel from his sources, not getting blindsided by local news. “Depends on which one is the ringleader, and how long they stay together.”
Darius leaned against the couch, not too close. “What do you mean?”
“Archie’s vindictive, but he’s also a coward,” Bishop said. “If this Laird Renaker acts as backup, yeah, Archie might try taking care of unfinished business. If they split up, Archie won’t take risks.”
Darius nodded. “That’s good. I think.”
The security system beeped, and the front door opened. Bishop jerked around, hand moving towards a gun he wasn’t carrying. Darius touched his own gun but didn’t draw.
Holden waved from the foyer. “Jumpy, much?”
Darius mostly relaxed. “Rain check on game night. Bishop’s ex-partner escaped from prison.”
“Cop partner,” James clarified, ducking back into the room. “Not boyfriend partner.”
“Not helping, J,” Darius warned.
Bishop didn’t have the energy to get pissed about that.
“Oh, cool,” Holden said, dumping his messenger bag by the stairs. “That’s way more exciting than game night.” He scanned the room with his usual single-minded focus, obviously looking for Kit. Then he went rigid, transfixed by the TV. The anchor was reviewing the story for new viewers, and the mugshots were back up.
“Where’s Kit?” Holden asked, his voice like ice.
“Making coffee,” Bishop answered, then frowned. Making coffee shouldn’t take this long.
“Find him,” Holden snapped, pointing at Laird Renaker’s mugshot. “That’s his dad.”
36
