Chief Carter strides across the room. The kitchenette lights dance off the polished black tips of his shoes. “It was high.”
“What do you mean?” I drop the coffee mug onto the counter without paying attention to the liquid that splashes onto my fingers. There’s nothing that’s going to fix this shitshow.
He crosses his arms over his broad chest, causing his dark suit jacket to bunch above his forearms. “Bail was set at one hundred thousand. No percentage.”
“How did he come up with one hundred thousand? Jesus. Forget I asked. The guy is deeper in the drug world than we suspected if he’s got that kind of money laying around.”
“Clearly.” The chief’s face is beet red as he shakes his head. “And who knows what his attorney is going to come up with to delay proceedings.”
“I don’t even want to know who’s representing him.” I thought he’d end up with a public defender.
My phone rings again. Let it go, asshole.
When he tells me the name, I shake my head. He’s known for representing the most elite crooks in the city. The politicians. “I don’t know how that asshole can look himself in the mirror.”
“It’s plated in gold.”
I’ve got to tell Emily that he’s back on the streets. “Give me a second.”
“Go ahead.” He unlaces his arms and rubs a palm over his forehead. “I have a headache.”
“Me, too.” As I swipe the screen to call Emily, I glance at the missed calls. They’re all from the same number. Out ofKansas City. Shit. That’s Lucas’s number, and he’s called twenty times in the last ten minutes.
I hit redial. Don’t tell me Chad has already knocked the kid around in the few hours he’s been out. But I already know the answer before the phone clicks in my ear. This is Chad Whitlock we’re talking about. Of course, he’s already terrorizing the streets.
“Jake Thompson calling from the Brookhaven Police Department. I was returning your call. If you’re injured, you need to call 911 or get an ambulance. We’re not able to respond from here to your location.”
“This is Lucas Hays. You’ve got to get to Mackenzie’s house. I called her, and she’s not answering.”
Seriously? He’s called twenty times to check on his girlfriend. She’s probably hooking up with someone.
“I’m sure she’s busy.” I hold on to the last shred of hope that I can eat before having to go to Mackenzie’s house and deal with Chad again. I snatch a paper towel off the spool.
Ora will have my ass if I don’t clean up after myself. ‘I’m the dispatcher, not the full-time cleaning lady.’ I can already hear her chastising me. I peer over to the lobby where she’s turned the television channel to a crime show.
Now this…. This I can admit to watching.
“I sent Emily Grey there fifteen minutes ago, and now she’s not answering either.”
“What did you say?” My keys jingle as I shove past Captain Carter. Please tell me I heard him wrong.
“I sent Emily to check on Mackenzie, and now, neither of them is answering their phones.”
“What’s wrong?” Ora jumps from her seat, causing it to crash onto the floor as Chief Carter barrels through the lobby, trailing behind me.
“Tell Ramirez to go to the Whitlock house now.” I click off the phone, not even bothering to tell Lucas goodbye.
“What’s going on?” Chief Carter bellows.
“That Lucas kid sent Emily to check on Mackenzie and neither of them are answering him. She has Grace with her.” Bile rises in my throat. “She had no idea Chad was out of jail. Chad has told both of us to leave him and Mackenzie alone.” I yank open the door with a jerk.
I can’t fucking think. My chest heaves as I try to take in a deeper breath, before I hyperventilate while pressing her name on my phone.
Ring after ring goes through without any answer. Please let them be okay. Please let them be okay. She had no idea Chad was there. Fifteen minutes. She’s been there fifteen minutes.
Chief Carter’s boots stomp on the gravel behind me. “I’ll drive.”
“I’ll drive.” I rip the door to my cruiser open. There’s no fucking way I can sit in a fucking car and do nothing. I’ll lose my shit.
