“Mirabelle. They’ve just finished at Dodd’s apartment. They found a writing sample of Jane Smith. Latent’s working on it now. And your guard friend Bryan’s been released.”
“Kowalski get anything useful from Denny Darcy?”
“Not really. He was hired by Mike Spencer, just passed notes and pills. Never met Jane, has no idea where Ryder is.”
“Of course he doesn’t,” I sigh. “Did Mirabelle mention anything about, you know?”
“We have Dodd in isolation, so so far the only people who know are you, me, Cam, and Chip. I’m going to have to tell the Commish, though. If he doesn’t know already, that is.”
“Probably not. I mean if he didn’t tell me, his so-called best friend, he sure as hell didn’t tell Craven.” I scoff. “Or he did. For all I know he’s told everyone in Galilee but me.” Harry takes my hand and I wrap my fingers in his. “Have you spoken to Cam yet?”
“When you were in the bathroom. He’s back at the station with all the evidence Justic—I mean, Justin provided. They might have a lead on the car the shooters were driving. The whole shoot out was caught on CCTV. Got a license plate, but lost the car when it went into an underground garage. We’ll see what we find there.”
“At least some good came out of this mess.” I pull my hand away with a sigh. “You should go. They need you down there. The case is breaking now.”
“I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“There’s a cruiser out front, and I’m sure my guards will track me down soon enough.”
“I’m not talking about that, and you know it.”
I look away from his well-meaning face. “I’ll be okay. I just need time to process, I think.”
“Jo, I—”
“I can’t talk about it right now, okay? I just can’t. Seriously, go. You can’t really do anything for me here. Not really. You need to fix this. There’s still a psycho out there gunning for me, and I don’t have the energy to go after him right now. You’ll have to do the job for both of us. Go. I’ll be fine.”
I’m touched by his reluctance to leave my side, but we both know he’s needed more there than here. This is my second cup of tea, and I didn’t even touch the first. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely, yes. Go.”
Reluctantly, he stands up. “I’d feel better if you’d let me take you back to my place.”
“I want to sleep in my own bed, watch my own TV, and stare out my own window. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll post another patrol car out front until the guards arrive.”
“I feel safer already.”
He leans down and kisses me. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” We kiss again before he walks to the door, and a few seconds later I hear the front door close and lock.
Alone at last, thank the Lord. I sigh but then wince in pain. Stupid gunshot wound. I’ve never been shot before. Despite what the shows portray, very few of us ever get involved in shoot-outs. Most only draw their side arms about ten times with the intent to shoot, but never pull the trigger. Of course they also never have an acid-throwing psychopath after them because their best friend is a superhero. Or ex-best friend, I guess. Maybe Alkaline will leave me alone if I shoot the bastard myself. The enemy of my enemy and all that.
No, it’s time to flee. I have come to the decision that I need to get the fuck out of this town ASAP. I should have listened to everyone and left the moment I saw that picture on the door. I wouldn’t have been shot, humiliated, and broken hearted. I’d still have my best friend, bastard fucking liar that he is.
I’m thinking Fiji. Get a bungalow, burn in the sun, maybe rent a sailboat and go scuba diving. When Harry can join me, he can rub suntan lotion on my back. I’ll send the bill to the bastard fucking liar who made me go to ground. It’ll be the last time he hears from me.
I manage to get up and shuffle into the kitchenette to forage for food. There’s a few apples, bread, moldy tuna, and peanut butter. I go for apples and peanut butter and stumble to the couch. Nothing on TV about the shoot out or me. I settle on a vampire movie to assuage my blood lust. I keep alternating between intense anger and bottomless despair with a sprinkling of humiliation thrown in.
As the busty woman gives herself to the dead man, and I find the most expensive hotel in Fiji, there’s a knock on my front door. I damn near drop my laptop in surprise. No one buzzed to come up, but I doubt Alkaline would knock. Can’t be too careful though. Not only do I get my spare gun, but I even throw on the coat. If I had realized I was still wearing it on the ride home, I would have thrown it out the window. I’ll toss it in the trash at the airport instead.