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Jasmin snorts.
“But,” the plain clothed officer continues, “we’re still conducting inquiries into missing items related to our investigation.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Logan stands in a rush and drags his hands back through his hair, pacing up and down as the officer looks at him with a raised brow. “You’re not suggesting Dax smuggled shit for that asshole, are you? He wouldn’t do that. I know him.”
“Could you please answer the question, Miss Jacobs?” The officer looks back at me.
I drag in an exhausted breath. I’ve barely slept. I was taken to the hospital for a check-up last night, despite insisting I was fine. And Jasmin came to collect me from the hospital while Logan went to the station to talk to Dax. But they wouldn’t let him see him. The three of us are all bloodshot-eyed and running on caffeine this morning.
And Dax is still in a holding cell somewhere.
I press my fingertips into my eye sockets and try to ignore the pounding at the base of my skull.
“We flew in. We both went through customs. Dax helped me get a taxi outside. And then he went back inside to check in for his flight to LA.”
“Did he seem on edge?”
“No.”
“How about his luggage? Was he carrying more than you’d expect for the length of the trip? Was he acting unusual? Being extra protective over it?”
“No.” The back of my neck burns.
“You really think my brother would do anything like that? What is it you think he had?” Jasmin asks.
“We can’t disclose that information,” the officer answers.
Jasmin curses under her breath beside me as goosebumps scatter up my arms.
New York.
The officer asks some more questions, which Jasmin and Logan answer, while I sit in stony silence, and then he and his colleague finally leave.
“What the hell was that all about?” Logan walks back into the living area after showing them to the door.
“Ridiculous,” Jasmin mutters. “They’re being ridiculous. Dax always said he’s looked at differently since he was convicted. He’s done his time. Why can’t they see that? This all started because of Julian Young, he’s the real criminal. Dax isn’t… he’s…” She covers her eyes with her hand and lowers her head as tears drop onto her cream skirt.
“We know that. And they’ll see that. They will,” Logan says, his voice stronger than I feel.
“He’ll hate it in there. It’ll be eating him up. You know how he was when he was first released. He’ll hate it.” Jasmin cries harder as I lift my puffy eyes to meet Logan’s.
“I’ll head down to the station again.” He looks from me to Jasmin. “See what I can find out. See how he’s doing. The lawyer’s there now. She’s the best there is.”
I nod at Logan as he leaves, grateful for any information he might be able to get for us.
My gorgeous Dax, I hope you’re doing okay. Just hold on. You’ll be out soon. Just hold on.
Jasmin lifts her head and dabs under her eyes. It’s just the two of us now. The two women who care about Dax the most in the world, left with more questions than answers.
“I’m worried about him, Rose,” she sniffs. “He won’t be doing well. Not if they’re holding him in a cell.”
It’s my turn to wrap my arm around her in an effort to provide some comfort. Because I know that that’s exactly where Dax will be. In some cold, drafty cell. Or worse, in a windowless room being interrogated.
He hasn’t done anything wrong.
Jasmin’s phone vibrates on the coffee table, and she picks it up with a trembling hand.
“It’s Alistair.”
