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“Do you mind if I … chat with your mother for a minute?”

“I do. My mother won’t be any assistance to you. Her mental faculties aren’t what they used to be.”

“Still, it might be--”

“We’re not chatting with Mrs. Blackthorne. We’ve got more pressing issues than a drug addict who decided to hole herself up for the weekend and overdose on heroin.”

“Of course. Thank you for your time, Mr. Blackthorne.”

The officers exit my office, along with Rand, who didn’t bother to say a word from the time he showed them in up until now. I pour myself a drink, carrying the glass back to my desk, and pulling out my phone, I check my texts.

The last one I received was Makaio, telling me Isa had apparently left the bar to walk back home. Why? No idea. On the way back, though, it appeared she caught on and ran from him, through the park. And that’s when Makaio got in touch with me.

I dial his number, which he answers on the second ring. “Yeah, Boss, I found her.”

“And?”

“She’s okay. Shaken up a bit. Some little pricks in the park were messing with her.”

“I trust you intervened.”

“That I did.”

“Everyone still has a pulse?” I pitch back the entire glass of liquor, trying to erase the mind-numbing exercise of having entertained an infant cop for the last hour.

“Yes.”

“Good. I don’t need another investigation thrown in my lap.”

“Rest assured, I only smacked them around a bit.”

“Enough to serve as a warning, I hope.”

“I don’t think they’ll mess with her again. And if they do, I’ll be sure to make it clearer.”

The comment makes me smile as I fill another glass of bourbon. “I want her brought directly to my office when you arrive.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

As I hang up the phone, the elevator dings, and Rand strides toward me.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” I ask, falling back into my chair and kicking my feet up on the desk.

“I can assure you, I carried out your orders to the T. I let the woman know we were aware of the private investigator, and I let her go. That was the last I saw, or heard, from her.”

“I don’t like surprises. Having two police officers show up at my door is definitely a shitty surprise.”

Arms crossed in front of him, Rand lowers his gaze. “My apologies, Sir.”

“Did you have any awareness of her addiction?”

“Based on the information of our contacts, I was aware she had a history of drug abuse, but her tests have since been clean.”

“Guess it was a bad night, then. Relapse, maybe.”

The warm buzz of alcohol begins to dull my frustration from before, and I switch my mind to something else, no less concerning, but more worthy of my attention. “I appreciate the information on Isa. It appears she had a run-in this evening while in town.”

“She’s okay, I hope.”