Chapter Twenty-Five
‘We’ve got a small problem, Inspector,’ Reed began.
‘Yeah?’ I shot back. ‘You just realised your boss is a homicidal maniac?’
Reed laughed. ‘That’s not news, Inspector. No, we have a problem, because your Kate Potter wouldn’t meet up with Troy Fairglass and that made him really sad.’
A laden weight hit my stomach but I worked to keep my tone casual. ‘And you care about Troy’s feelings because…?’
He snickered. ‘Cute. We know you know or else you wouldn’t have warned Kate off. But the thing is, Jingo is obsessed with you, Inspector. I don’t get it myself. You’re pretty and all that, but no woman is worth all this effort.’
My thoughts scattered and I tried to keep the conversation going.Obsessed with me?‘You’re a charming guy, Reed. I sincerely hope you’re not married.’
‘I’m not.’ A beat. ‘You interested?’
‘Not evena little.’
Another snicker. ‘He wants you. He’s going to get you. It’s that simple. And if you don’t come to Kate’s nice little house, he’s going to slice her up with some scissors. He likes to slice women with scissors.’
I felt sick.
Suddenly Broadlake was front and centre in my mind, not with scissors in his hands, but garden shears. Fit for cutting flesh and bone alike.
I swallowed hard but my voice was steady as I said, ‘I’m on my way.’
‘Of course you are,’ he mocked. ‘Tick-tock, Inspector. We’ve got our eyes on you. Don’t deviate from the route I’m sending you. We don’t want you getting lost.’
He hung up and moments later a map came through to my phone with a route highlighted. I grimaced. That wasn’t a route. It was a kill box drawn in sunshine yellow.
Fuck.
I couldn’t call it in, not as protocol dictated. Jingo had cops in his pocket. He’d know if I called it in.
‘Channing!’ I hollered from my office. ‘We’re moving.’
He met me in the corridor. ‘What’s up?’
‘Jingo has Kate. We’re going in. It’s going to be messy. You got your baton?’
Henodded, expression grim.
‘When did you last recharge?’ The last thing I wanted was to take him into battle if he was scraping the bottom of his magical barrel.
‘Only a few days ago. I’m good to go, sir.’
He might have been, but I hadn’t recharged in weeks. I’d taken one of Amber’s special ORAL potions a few weeks ago, but if I wasn’t already, I’d soon be operating on magical fumes.
I hesitated. Should I bring Channing with me? I was dragging him into danger, and we weren’t following correct procedure.
‘I haven’t called it in. We’re not playing by the book here,’ I warned.
‘I’m coming with you all the same,’ he insisted. ‘Sir,’ he tacked on belatedly.
‘Good,’ I said. ‘You’re driving.’
Robbie didn’t argue when I told him I needed him and his team to follow behind me discreetly. The grinding of his teeth, though, told me he wasn’t happy about it. He and his men pulled on their leather tabards and strappedon so many weapons that it made Ivan look ill-prepared at Wraithmore.
When the ogres were all armed to the teeth, Robbie took a photograph of the route displayed on my phone, then started barking orders to his men.
