“My office, then,” he says, scooping up my sketchbook, pencil, eraser, and blending stick. “Unlike Lucas, I ain’t gonna learn this system without readin’ the fuckin’ manual.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
AJ
Stone,
Your “leave” is starting to look more like retirement. Never thought Marvin would turn out to be more reliable than you. Be back at your desk on Monday or I’m giving it—and your star—to him.
-Chief Harris
I stare at the email, grinding my teeth so hard, my jaw cracks. Of course, Harris would threaten to give Marvin my job. Never mind that the Department of Public Safety don’t work that way, he’d do it out of spite.
The idea of leaving Grace alone—unprotected—when we’re still no closer to finding out who took her sits like a lead weight in my gut.
I type and delete half a dozen replies ranging from “I’ll be at the station at eight a.m. Monday” to “With all due respect, chief, retirement suits me just fine” before my phone buzzes, Parker’s name flashing across the screen.
For half a second, I think about ignoring it. She hasn’t quite forgiven me for hiding our theories from Grace. But Parker put her career in jeopardy for us. She can be angry at me for the rest of my life, and I’ll still consider her family.
“Parker. You findin’ ways to keep outta trouble?”
She snorts. “So far today, I’ve washed, dried, and folded my laundry, scrubbed the baseboards, and bought one of those damn mini-blind dusters. If I don’t find some trouble soon, I might need to try my hand at a sourdough starter. Or worse. I’ll give myself bangs.”
Laughing feels…like the return of a long-lost friend.
Jas and I used to prank the new recruits—and even the other lieutenants—on the regular. But once Grace disappeared…I stopped laughing completely.
“Did Harris give you any idea when he’d lift your suspension?”
“Nope. And he ain’t paying me for it either.”
“Fuck.” This is all my fault. I should have been the one to deck the chief. Not her. “Look…if you need…if things get tight…” I’ve stared down gunmen high on PCP, joined SWAT on more than a dozen raids, but offering a friend money? That’s a whole other level of hard. “I can float you some cash.”
Parker’s utterly silent for several seconds. Finally, she huffs. “AJ, if you think you’re gonna pay me for doin’ the right thing, you’re half a bubble off plumb.”
That frees another laugh, this one a little shaky, but just as real. “Fair enough. For now.”
“I actually called to give you a heads up on somethin’,” she says. Her tone softens. “Isabel, Emi, and I usually get together on Wednesdays. Movies, junk food, maybe some pampering. We’re gonna ask Grace to join us tonight.”
Every muscle in my body goes tight. The lump in my throat makes it hard to breathe. “No. She’s not?—”
“Ready? For fuck’s sake, AJ. Look in the damn mirror. You’re the one who ain’t ready. Grace held her own at the press conference. You said she was even jokin’ around with Lucas by the time he left yesterday—after havin’ a damn panic attack. She can handle this. And it’s at Isabel’s. She and Connor have the exact same security setup you do.”
“We don’t have any new leads…” The words sound feeble, even to my ears. And hell, it is possible whoever took her is so off the grid, they have no idea she’s alive.
But from the minute I found her down in Mexico, we’ve been…together. In the same house. The same space. How the fuck am I supposed to cope with her being halfway across town?
“Look, if it helps, I won’t touch a drop of alcohol tonight, and I’ll be armed. I’ll even text you every hour if it’ll make you feel better.” After a beat, Parker’s voice softens. “She needs this. Hell, you need this. You’ve been glued to her side for almost two weeks. She’s gonna drown if she can’t breathe without you watching her.”
Fuck.
She’s right.
The mere thought of Grace leaving the house without me is enough to make my chest ache. But our home isn’t a prison. And if I make it one, how am I any better than the assholes who took her? She needs her own friends. Her own life. One that fits the woman she is now.
“If you’re even two minutes late textin’ me…”
“You’ll be over here faster than a duck on a June bug. Got it, boss. I’ll text her as soon as I hang up. Assuming she says yes, you want to drop her off, or should I plan on pickin’ her up? We usually start at six thirty, end around eleven or so.”
