章節 2: Chapter two
CHAPTER 2
"Why would Jack be calling? I thought you two broke up." He paused, then added a less than subtle, "Again."
"We did break up. Again." "So why's he calling?"
"I don't know, Dad. Because he's Jack, and he doesn't know how to get a clue." I chopped the ends off the asparagus one at a time, ignoring the searing glare emanating from my left and the screaming device behind me.
"Well, answer it, and find out what he wants."
"I know what he wants, and I don't want to talk to him." The phone fell into blessed silence.
A few beats passed. Using undue force, I cut the ends off more asparagus stalks, the bang of the knife on the cutting board loud in the room.
The phone rang again.
Jack had always been persistent, and he hated being ignored.
Correction. Loathed.
"For Pete's sake." Dad fumbled his way toward the table and my phone.
"Dad, leave it." "No."
"Leave it."
Ignoring me, Dad snatched the device from the table and angled it an arm's length away from his face, squinting at the screen so he could read it. "Ha! See? I told you. It's work. Forty years on duty. Forty! I know what I'm talking about. Unless things have changed, detectives don't get days off, as entitled as you think you might be, Your Highness. Now answer it."
Bracing himself on the kitchen table, taking the weight off his bum leg, Dad tossed the phone at me instead of crossing the kitchen to pass it off like a normal person. It landed on the counter with a clatter, skidding until it hit the backsplash.
"I can't answer it if it's broken, Dad."
"Miserable child," he muttered—not quietly.
I grabbed the phone and glared at the display. Work. Not Jack. That was both good and bad. Maybe Jack had finally taken the hint.
Not likely.
But if it was work calling…
Dammit.
I tapped to accept the call and balanced the phone between my ear and shoulder so I could keep working on dinner.
"Valor."
"Don't say it. I'm gonna owe you big time."
"I don't like conversations that start like this. You know, not twenty-four hours ago, you told me under no circumstance was I to show my, and I quote, 'ugly mug' at work this weekend."
A heavy sigh came through the line. "I know, I know, and you can get pissed at me another time, but I need you. We've got a hot one, and Peel Regional is scrambling. Bright and Travolta are neck-deep in the Jillian Winters case, and I've got Bentley and Nguyen running leads on an at-risk runaway teen in Pickering. They got called in last night."
"What about Fischer and Duval?"
"They've been in meetings with Durham PD all afternoon because that Bavaria case goes to court Monday. I tried them first, but they didn't answer. Bennet and Horne are out of town working with Hamilton PD. I've got no one else, and time is wasting. You know how these things work."
I did, and I wasn't sure there would ever be a day I wouldn't lose my stomach when I got called to a new case.
"What've we got?"
I shoved aside the stalks of asparagus I'd been working on and grabbed a dishtowel to wipe my hands. Dad hovered, listening in. The retired detective in him was champing at the bit for details and feeding off my energy.
"Five-month-old baby boy snatched right out of his carriage in the backyard of his home in broad daylight."
"A baby? Jesus. Couldn't Peel confirm if it was a parental nabbing? Why are we getting called in?"
"They can't. That's why they've asked for our help. We gotta move on this. You'll have to touch base with Sergeant Denver Ikeyo when you get there. He's the officer in charge at the moment."
"All right. Where am I going?"
"Port Credit area. I'm texting you the address right now.
On Maple Avenue. High-end district." "I'm on my way."
"Valor, wait. I can't get a hold of Gelekar. Skips to voicemail every time. Doesn't even ring. I left a few messages. Any clue where she's at?"
"I'll try her. Her kid has been sick again." Last I'd heard, a trip to the hospital sounded imminent.
"Keep me posted."
I hung up and darted to the stairs to the second floor. "Rain check on dinner, Dad."
"What's happening?"
"Missing infant. Snatched in broad daylight from his backyard."
"Oh, Jesus."
I raced to my bedroom and tugged a pair of previously ironed slacks off a hanger. They were light weight, fitted, and black. I'd cook under the August sun, but I couldn't wear ratty shorts to a crime scene.
My cargos and T-shirt went into the laundry hamper. Adding a short-sleeved button-down, I grabbed my holster belt, strapped it on, and dug my Sig Sauer P226 from the locked box inside the bedside table. I checked it over, clicked the magazine into place, and slid it into the holster.
Snagging a tie, I sprinted downstairs, securing the knot as I ran. It was sloppy, but it couldn't be helped. Dad waited by the front door with my phone, keys, wallet, and credentials as I hastily tucked in my shirt.
"Thanks." I shoved my wallet into my back pocket, clipped my badge to my belt, and scanned the living room before finding shoes in the hall closet and pulling them on.
"Go. I'll lock up and make sure the kitchen gets tidied to your fancy-ass standards."
I chuckled. "Thanks. Sorry about dinner." "Nonsense. These things happen."
"Do not go to Wendy's. Eat the chicken. Take it home. Take my car too. I have the Charger."
Dad waved off the suggestion. "Call me." "When I can. Love you."
I gave him a quick peck on the cheek, the sandpaper grit of his stubble as familiar as his Old Spice aftershave.
I flew out the door toward my blacked-out work-issued Charger while dialing my partner, Eden Gelekar's, number. Like Edwards had claimed, it went straight to voicemail.
"It's me. If you get this, call me. We've got an abducted infant in Port Credit. Peel called us in. Unknown perpetrator at this time. I need you."
I hung up and pocketed my phone before typing the address Edwards had sent into the Charger's onboard computer system. Traffic notwithstanding, I was destined to arrive in twenty-seven m
inutes. The map highlighted my route, and I was off.
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