I stifle a chuckle. His buttons are easy to push. “I know you wanted me to lose it. That’s it, right? You’d kick my ass?”
“I imagined you’d be more resistant.”
“I’d hate to rough you up in front of Miles. He thinks highly of you.”
“He does?” Rhett asks, a hint of surprise in his tone.
“Tsk.”
“Well, he wasn’t there when I arrested you in the hotel,” Rhett replies, ignoring my dismissal. “No reason to hold back then.”
I relax and stare up at the car ceiling, my one eye strained from the low lighting. “Sometimes a man has to follow through with his duty. You carried out yours, and I’m carrying out mine.”
Maybe I don’t owe Miles anything, but I feel like I need to do right by him.
We pull up into the driveway of my house, Rhett deep in thought. There aren’t any cars in sight. We either beat Charleston here or we’re far too late to do anything about the evidence.
I step out of the vehicle and hobble over to the front door. Locked. I don’t have my keys. Instead I walk around to the back, open the gate, and shuffle over to the back door. We never lock it. Probably not a good habit, considering our questionable neighborhood, but it’s not like we have much to steal, either.
With a forceful shove, I open the back door and walk inside. The darkness is still. Rain runs the length of the windows.
I walk to our room and switch on the light. The first thing that strikes me is that fact that someone has been in the room—someone not Miles or myself. My old case files from Shelby’s office are open and scattered across the floor. Fuck, did they actually beat us here?
I kneel down and pick up the first file. The moment I catch sight of the name, I freeze.
McMillian.
The other files are closed and mostly undisturbed, but McMillian’s is open with the police report clear as day, not to mention the terrible witness statement I took from Ms. Timo. Who would break into my room to read this?
I turn around and check the closet. Shelby’s hard evidence waits under the floor, just where I left it. My breath goes short when I realize what must’ve happened.
Shannon got in here and rummaged around through my files. It had to be her. Who else would be so curious? But, then, if she read this, what happened?
I grab Shelby’s evidence and throw it on the bed.
“Miles?” I hear someone call out.
With stiff movements I exit my room and walk to the back door. Rhett and Jayden are standing a few feet into the house. Jayden whips his attention over to me and then looks around.
“Where’s Miles?” he asks.
I glare at the kid. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Shannon and Lacy. They ran off. They’re gone.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“EXPLAIN,” I command.
“They came over here to get something,” Jayden says, the speed of his speech twice as fast and frantic. “And then Shannon ran off! Lacy came back and told us, but we couldn’t find Shannon anywhere. And then, uh, Lacy disappeared, and—”
“How long ago?”
“I dunno. A couple of hours? It wasn’t long after you and Miles left.”
“And what have you been doing this entire time?” I shout as I take a step closer. Jayden cringes away.
“We called the p-police,” he stammers. “They sent two officers. They’ve been out looking.”
I catch my breath; dread replaces all other feeling in my body. “You called the cops?”
“Yeah. Ms. Timo did.”
“Two officers showed up?” Rhett asks.
Jayden turns to him, confused, and then glances back at me. I motion for him to answer Rhett. Jayden inhales and says, “Yeah. They showed up quick.”
“Fuck,” I mutter aloud.
There’s a real possibility that these two overzealous cops are getting Worldwide Decurion paychecks, which means they might find the girls, bring them in, and report they found nothing at all. This is a terrible neighborhood; maybe they think they can get away with it. What the fuck am I going to do if that’s the case?
I head for the front door, and Rhett grabs my arm, stopping me midway and hurting my shoulder. I turn on my heel and glower. “What?” I snap.
“Where’re you going?” he asks.
“To look for the kids, obviously.”
“I need that paperwork.”
“It’s in my bedroom,” I state, ripping my arm from his grasp no matter the pain it causes me. “It’s on the bed. Take what you want.”
He doesn’t attempt to stop me a second time, and I storm out of the house—well, storm out as well as I can with a stiff leg. I enter the rain fueled by anxiety. Lacy and Shannon are young and no match for fully trained, fully grown police officers. Hell, I’m sure Lacy and Shannon would run into their arms, especially Lacy. They’re “safe” and there to “protect” them. Proper authority.
I hope to God those two officers are just concerned men with nothing else on their plates.
“You’re gonna walk around in the rain?”
I stop and turn, unwilling to glance over my shoulder. Jayden jogs after me. He comes to a halt at my side and wipes the water from his face with the back of his arm.
“You look fucked-up, man,” he mutters.
I don’t answer him. Instead I continue on my way, straight down the street, staring into the darkness with one eye, trying to catch sight of movement. There’s a park a few blocks down—a terrible, seedy location for drug dealers and hobos—but they’ve got play equipment, trees, and shrubs. I imagine if I were eleven or twelve, I might head there to escape the rain.
Jayden shadows my trek, his shivering audible above the downpour.
“Lacy!” I call out as I lurch along. “Shannon!”
“They aren’t gonna hear you through the weather,” Jayden says.
“They might.”
“We should go back.”
“You go back.”
I cross the final street to the park and sigh. The place seems larger in the dark of the night. I can’t even see the play
