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“Hey there, Sarge,” Zaxx said with a smile. He leaned on the board like a walking stick. “My sister asked me to talk to you. You remember my sister? Little redhead?”
“We don’t have a problem,” Danvers said, bringing his hands up as if they could stave off what was coming. “I can drop the charges tomorrow, when I get to work. It’ll just take a form and a phone call, and they’re gone.”
“You booked and arraigned her, Bill. That’ll be on her record. Can you fix that with a form and a phone call?”
Danvers’ eyes widened more. He swallowed. “I ... I can make the charges go away. No court, no jail. Bail refunded.”
The booking and arraignment didn’t matter all that much; Zelda had a juvenile record of the same kind of misdemeanor troublemaking, and no doubt eventually she’d earn an adult record, too. It was her brand. But Zaxx found he enjoyed making this asshole, who’d been so fucking smug behind his desk at the station, halfway to pissing himself in fear now. Tommy had done a real number on the guy.
“You got your phone close at hand, Billy?” Tommy asked.
Danvers glanced over to the worktable, where his phone sat in a speaker set, powering the music. Dom went over and collected it. Whitesnake—a band Zaxx knew only because Len had some shitty taste in music—went instantly silent.
Dom shoved the phone in Danvers’ face to unlock it, but yanked it away before the cop could grab it.
“Let’s check out your camera roll first. Anything good in here?” Dom scrolled, then stopped and looked at Danvers. “I expected snaps of you in pink lace, but this? Shit, Bill.” He turned the phone so Danvers could see it. And somehow the cop got even paler.
“I’m gonna Air Drop these to my phone.” Dom let Danvers watch him do it. “You are not a nice man, Bill. We knew that already, that’s why we’re here, but I gotta say, you need Jesus. Okay. Let’s see your contacts. Here. ‘Station’—that’s work, right?”
Danvers nodded and reached for his phone. Dom kept it out of his reach. “I’ll play operator for ya, don’t worry. You understand, your job here is to get to whoever you need to get to and get Zelda clear. That’s how you keep all your parts today and I don’t do anything with these photos.”
With a glance at Zaxx, Dom made it clear that whatever they did to him, he had to have all his parts when they were done. That was fine; Zaxx didn’t intend to remove anything. But what was going on in the photos?
“I can’t do it from home.” Danvers was almost whispering. “There’s paperwork. I need to do it at the station.”
“Nobody leaves this yard until that’s done, Billy Boy,” Tommy said. “So how’d you handle time-sensitive shit if you were ... I don’t know ... in the hospital?”
Danvers gulped again. Then he nodded. “Debbie. She works the desk and does admin. All our paperwork goes through her. She’s not supposed to, but she signs for us when we forget or can’t get back.”
“Debbie works the desk,” Dom repeated. Danvers nodded. “Does that mean she’ll answer the phone at this number?” He showed Danvers the screen of his own phone again.
“Yeah, that’s her.”
Dom turned to Tommy and then to Zaxx, making the gesture for keep quiet. Then he tapped the screen twice and held the phone up to Danvers’ mouth.
He’d hit speaker. They all heard it ring twice, then, “Springfield Police, Campus Station. This is Officer Cannon. How can I help?”
Zaxx recognized the voice of Officer Cutie, the plump little blonde who’d been at the desk last week.
“Hey Deb, it’s Bill.”
“Oh hi, Bill. What’s up?”
Danvers asked her to ‘keep her voice down’—which apparently meant to stop recording the call—and then told a smoothly convincing story about how that little redhead from last week was really eating at him, how he’d been in a bad mood that day and probably overreacted, and blah blah blah. Deb’s responses were both understanding and noncommittal, and Zaxx got the impression she was used to Danvers ‘overreacting’ and was currently waiting for the plot twist.
When Danvers explained that he wanted to void his report, she asked for him to repeat himself, and then she agreed. In fact, it sounded like she was doing that paperwork during the call, as if she worried he’d recant if she didn’t hurry. Zaxx’s curiosity was piqued—what kind of fuckery did this asshole get up to on the regular?
It didn’t matter. All that mattered was Zelda.
When the call was over, Dom put Danvers’ phone back in its dock. He didn’t start the music again.
Tommy leaned in, pushing the barrel of his Glock into Danvers’ sternum. “If it turns out that call didn’t go exactly like it was supposed to go, and Zelda is not clear of your bullshit, all the shit Evie gave me on you, and whatever shit Dom just pulled off your phone, it all goes to the every corner of the Springfield PD. It goes to the News-Leader. It goes to Channel 3. It goes everywhere. We good?”
Danvers made a creaky nod. “It’s done. She’s clear. Now get the fuck off my property and leave me alone.”
Tommy laughed. “Not quite, my man. We took care of the charges, so sweet little Zelda can live her life, but arresting her on bogus bullshit’s not the only thing you did to her, is it?”
“What?” Danvers asked—and then got it. He turned to Zaxx, who was now hefting the board. He’d noticed a couple of bent, rusty nails at one end. Interesting.
