His hands smelled strongly of ocean breeze dish soap. Kit felt a little queasy about what Holden had scrubbed away.
Not queasy enough to reject the soothing head-pets.
“Did you take photos?” Bishop asked.
One hand left Kit’s hair, and after a few taps, Holden handed over his phone. “Exit that specific album at your own risk. The rest of my photos are for a certain someone’s eyes only.”
A lesser man might have rolled his eyes. Bishop simply swiped through the crime scene photos.
James slid a tablet onto his desk, in everyone’s view. He pointed at the zoomed-in map. “That’s where I lost track ofDarius’s car. Seventeenth and Oriole, six hours ago. He passed through an area I don’t have camera access to. I assume deliberately.”
“He was already gone when he texted about the work trip,” Bishop said, peering at the map before returning to Holden’s photos.
Holden sighed, breath stirring Kit’s hair. “This is why I told you guys not to make stupid plans without me. Give me my phone back.”
Retrieving his phone took him an entire foot away from Kit, which Kit deeply resented.
Holden set his phone next to James’s tablet, showing a different blinking map. “I installed a tracker on Darius’s phone.”
Everyone’s attention snapped towards him.
“You did what?” James demanded.
“I installed a tracker on Darius’s phone,” Holden repeated, in the same nonchalant tone.
“To be fair,” Kit said. “You literally taught him how to install trackers on people’s phones. You can’t be surprised when he installs trackers on people’s phones.”
James groaned. “I’m surprised Darius let him. When did you… how did you get the tracker?”
“I stole it from you,” Holden said, not quite concealing his smugness.
Before James could throw a punch, Bishop cleared his throat. “Who else are you tracking, Holden?”
Which silenced the room again.
Kit’s pulse jumped. He wanted Holden to be tracking him. But he also didn’t. But he did. But he…
“I was getting around to the rest of you,” Holden said serenely. “The important thing is that my data stops two hours ago. He must have found the tracker or trashed his phone. But I have his location more recently than the car data.”
“He didn’t trash his phone,” Kit said, frowning. “Or at least, someone still has it. I tried to call forty-five minutes ago. Someone rejected the call.”
Kit needed to take lessons in chill from Holden. James must have heard the hurt in his voice, because he pulled Kit into a warm half-hug.
“No text back? Fucking bastard,” James said soothingly.
“Don’t take it personally,” Bishop added. “Darius has always preferred to work solo.”
“Because he’s a fucking bastard.” James rubbed Kit’s shoulder. “We’re already involved! That was my target in his kitchen, for fuck’s sake. Holden, where did the signal last place him?”
“I’ll send you all the data,” Holden said, grabbing his phone. “He dropped off near the aquarium.”
Everyone else’s phones buzzed simultaneously.
James kissed the top of Kit’s head, then checked the file. “Head out in twenty minutes?”
“Not without more information,” Bishop countered. “There’s a train station five minutes from this spot. He could be anywhere, unless you think he went to the aquarium.”
“What information will we get sitting around here?” James demanded. “You’re welcome to stay, but I’m ready.”
