Either this officer was extremely bold or maybe the Artemis Police Department wasn’t as irreproachable as I’d believed.
Anxiety thrummed under my skin. Regardless of the vampire officer in front of me, it had been too long since I’d heard from Hazel. I patted the counter, and her peridot eyes whipped up, suddenly aware someone was standing there. “I’m here to check on a missing person report that was filed a day or two ago.”
“Name?” she asked, with a huff that told me she was annoyed I was keeping her from whatever had made her smile.
“Hazel Brooks.”
She rolled back her chair, rifling through a series of orbs organized on a board. Some glowed red, others yellow, and a few green. Her brow furrowed after she’d looked into a handful, then she pulled herself back to the counter and pursed her lips. “There’s no report in our records for someone with that name.”
What?
My body heated, hands becoming clammy and I gripped the sides of my pants to steady myself.
“Are you sure? I was told a report had been filed,” I said, voice wobbly, worry cramping my gut. “Can you look again?”
She slid her chair back to the board, squinting into the crystal balls again. “Nope. No Hazel Brooks here.”
My hands shook against the counter, so I clasped them together. “I-I called three times and left voice messages. No one answered or dialed me back.”
The vampire, whose badge said Driscoll, frowned, pointing to the blinking phone in the corner. “We get over a hundred calls a day. And every time someone comes in, it goes to voicemail.” Just like clockwork, the phone began to ring, and she stared at me as if to show me firsthand how short-staffed they were.
A hand on my shoulder made me jolt, and I turned to see Fitz scanning me over, concern etched in his forehead. He turned his attention to the officer, whose spine straightened, and frowned at her. “Everything okay?”
“No,” I said, tears springing to my eyes. “Everything is definitely not okay.”
Arm around my shoulder, he walked me outside the police station, the fresh fall air drying the tears on my cheeks.
“I know I probably shouldn’t say this, but the truth is the APD is woefully understaffed, and the new crops of recruits don’t have the tenacity to go after cases like this,” Fitz said, voice just above a whisper. His eyes darted around to ensure no one at the station heard him, a very different demeanor than the man who’d been smiling and waving at all the officers fifteen minutes ago. “I’m happy to go back in with you and file a missing person report but honestly, Archon Thorne’s contacts have much more funding and resources at their disposal to look into it. I can even send you the number of a private investigator I’ve worked with before if you’d like.”
Based on how apathetic Officer Driscoll seemed about her job, he was probably right. Atlas had contacts across all the criminal and technology departments as one of our government’s Archons. And he cared about Hazel. He had planned for her to be his sister-in-law at one point, after all, and she was the sole aunt to his child. He’d have more incentive to find her than anyone in the Artemis Police Department.
“I’d rather you just take me home. But I’ll definitely take that contact information.”
“Of course,” he said, walking me toward his car.
All my previous worry became more and more clouded by another, more inflamed emotion. Anger.
Lynx had told me he’d contacted the APD. That they had filed a report.
Why did he lie?
I didn’t know, but I sure as hell was going to find out when I saw him at the moonluck tonight.
Chapter12
Oakley
5Blessed Crescent boasted all the grandeur you’d expect from a power couple living in the center of the supernatural suburbs. It was three stories tall, one side completely covered in glass, showcasing the home’s internal awe. The moonluck was already bustling with just as many witches and their families out on the lawn as there were inside.
Pushing the stroller along the long, curved driveway nearly touching the forest of pines behind the neighborhood, I gave Aspen a smile, watching him take in the gray sky brushed with thin clouds.
I was still reeling from my visit to the police department, but staying home meant more hours alone with Atlas and potentially letting the Moon Goddess and herblessingdrive my decisions. The moonluck would give us some emotional distance and me a chance to talk to Lynx and find out the truth about why the APD had no missing person report filed for my sister.
“Here,” Atlas said, placing a hand on the stroller’s handlebar while simultaneously pushing on its brake with the ball of his loafer. “Why don’t you get him situated while I go park this with the others?”
A row of about seven strollers—some covered in black lace, others with rose-gold embellishments, and a few doubles—all nestled side by side on the grass. I knelt down, grabbed my hip carrier from the storage basket, and wrapped it above my waist to clip it. I double checked the attached pouch, ensuring a few diapers and wipes were in there, along with an extra onesie, before standing.
Atlas stopped bouncing with Aspen and handed him over to me to prop him on the carrier’s padded seat. His little body curled around my side, head resting where my shoulder met the top of my breast, and his tiny hand gripped my flowy backless halter dress.
