Perhaps he should apologize to Slade one more time before they get to the platform.
The blue line was the one they wanted, and since they didn’t have passes, they had to pay. It took only a few minutes before they were waiting on the platform for the mass transit train to arrive. When Slade stood behind him, Atticus imagined himself flying through the air after Slade shoved him from behind. Flying, flying … thensplat.
Okay. Maybe he would stepthisway. Just a little.
Slade glared at him briefly before turning his attention to the tracks.
The awkwardness from the elevator had followed them, hovering like a dark cloud over the city, threatening to burst at any moment. Rather than attempt to lighten the mood, Atticus checked out the people hanging out down there. There were more people than he’d expected. Then again, he was in a city of millions, and being that it was Monday night, they were most likely on their way home for the evening.
The train finally arrived, bringing with it a wave of hot air that passed through in a rush. Atticus grinned.No, Death, you can’t have me today.
“What’re you smilin’ about?”
“You didn’t shove me in front of the train.”
Slade’s eyebrows slammed down. “What?”
Atticus smiled again, then whispered, “Win.”
They joined their fellow passengers inside. Atticus and Slade remained standing, leaving the seats for those needing them. Evan sat, but he suspected that was because Becs looked uncomfortable. As soon as his butt hit the seat, Becs was next to him.
If something wasn’t going on between those two, the four of them were going to emerge at their stop to find pigs flying through the city. And whatever it was, they weren’t on good terms at the moment.
Then again, Atticus had noticed the tension at HQ for a while now. At first, he thought it was Luca who’d caused it. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Drama seemed to be a theme for the task force.
The Penn Station stop took eighteen minutes to get to, with a couple of stops along the way. He wondered how long it would’ve taken by taxi, considering all the other cars on the streets were attempting to go in the same direction and often weren’t going anywhere at all.
“So what’s the plan?” Slade asked as they emerged from the underground tunnel and back into the daylight. Thanks to all the shadows thrown by the buildings, it wasn’t very bright.
“We’ve got four blocks to go,” Becs informed him.
“I meant once we get there,” he clarified.
“Oh.”
Evan looked at Becs. “It’s your lead. You make the call.”
She chewed on her lip for a moment, then looked at Slade. “Why don’t you and Atticus check out the restaurants and bars nearby? Decker checked out of the hotel, but that doesn’t mean he left the city.”
“And you think he’s in Chelsea?”
Becs shrugged. “He said he had a friend here.”
“At least we’ve narrowed it down some,” Slade mused.
Atticus didn’t bother to tell Slade that Chelsea was a neighborhood that spanned something like five hundred acres. Or so he’d read on one of the brochures he’d grabbed in the hotel lobby.
So, yeah, they’d narrowed it down, but it was still too big for the four of them to cover. Not without checking into more long-term accommodations first.
Becs was looking at them as though she wasn’t sure she’d made the right choice. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to check.”
“You’re right,” Atticus said when it was clear Evan and Slade were going to keep the constipated looks on their faces. “We’ll split up and keep our search to a two-block radius of the hotel. I’ll go south. You can go north,” he told Slade. “We can meet up back where we start from in what? An hour?”
“Hour and a half,” Slade said.
Atticus nodded. “Hour and a half. Got it.”
