Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 95676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
I need to get down there and see what they've got.
I lock my computer and grab my keys.
Jacoby stops me with a hand on my shoulder. "The last place you need to be is out there," he says quietly. "If it is this kid's body, they're going to arrest her. When that happens, you can't be involved, man. It's going to look bad enough for you already."
"I don't care how it looks," I growl. "She didn't do it."
"You just met her. You don't know that for sure."
I clench my jaw, glaring at him. He means well, but he's walking real thin ice right now. "You don't know that. I do." We both know I've never been wrong about shit like this before. There's a reason people call me with complicated cases where things just feel off. I always figure it out. Always. It's just the way my fucking mind works.
"Maybe you do," he says. "But this isn't just a case to you this time. This is personal. You need to sit this one out, let Duke do his job out there. You can pull the reports later and look them over if you really need to know the fucking details. But the last place you need to be right now is out there in the middle of it."
"Fuck," I growl. He's not wrong and we both know it. I'm already walking a thin line here, and it's getting thinner by the day. Every time I touch her, I risk my badge. But I can't sit here and do nothing either. I need to be out there, solving this shit. It's the only way I'm going to get her out of this mess. It's the only way we're going to figure out who is really responsible. And once I do that, I'm nailing that motherfucker to the wall.
"Lewis!"
Jacoby and I both turn at the sound of Captain Nesmith shouting my name from down the hall. He stomps toward us, his bald head gleaming under the fluorescent lights, his tie askew. He's breathing hard. Then again, he usually is. The man smokes a pack and a half a day. He's going to stroke out one of these days.
"Weren't you looking into this Clark kid for your buddy at LAPD?" he asks, stopping outside my office. "The missing college student?"
"Yes sir," I say.
Jacoby swears under his breath.
"We have a floater out at Heron's Head," Cap says. "Caller told dispatch they think it's the kid they've been talking about on the news." He huffs out a breath. "I put Ventura on the case since he's up in rotation. Head out there and see if you can help answer any questions for him."
I hesitate. "You want me working the case?"
"Nah," Cap says. "This is going to be a goddamn nightmare if it is this kid. The last thing I need is to tie up both of you in this bullshit. Just pass Ventura what you've got, see if you can answer any questions for him, and put him in touch with your guy at LAPD." Cap rubs his bald head, cursing. "Why couldn't this fucking model stay in Los Angeles? Jesus Christ."
"She didn't do it," I growl.
Jacoby elbows me.
"I mean, I don't believe she was involved," I correct. "Looks like he was being Catfished by someone using her identity. I'm still running down leads."
"Poor bastard," Cap grunts, shaking his head. "Fill Ventura in on what you have."
"Yes sir."
"You might as well go with him since you're busy not doing anything," he says with a pointed look at Jacoby. "Maybe you can make him play nice with others for once."
"I'll get right on that," Jacoby snorts.
"I always play nice with others."
Cap snorts this time, letting me know he thinks I'm full of shit. I do play nice though…up to a point. And then I'd rather play alone. Far too fucking many cops have egos and chips on their shoulders. I don't have the time or patience for either. Carrying a badge doesn't make us God. I have no problem reminding those who forget it, and I don't give a shit if they like me or not for doing it. Like Dennison. He may be pissed at me for reporting his stupid ass, but next time, he'll think twice about using unnecessary force. If he doesn't, he'll be out on his ass. Either way, the good guys win.
"Let's go," Jacoby growls, glaring at me when Cap takes off down the hall.
I don't have to ask to know he's pissed.
It's coming through loud and clear.
Traffic is crawling by the time we near Heron's Head. They're not letting anyone through, which means getting to the beach is a goddam nightmare. I make a few calls on the way. A friend in patrol confirms that they're pretty sure it's going to be Rory Clark. He's still wearing the same fucking red shirt he had on when he left campus.