“Now isn’t the time, man,” I mutter and start to turn back to the stairwell, but he’s gripping my shoulder again. “C’mon, Shane. Just let me do my job.”
“See, that’s the whole problem right now, Dom,” he says, and I hate the way his head tilts to the side as he gives me a half-sympathetic, half-sarcastic smile. “The victim’s neighbor is probably scared out of her mind right now, and, well, you and I both know in order to get valuable information out of her, it’s going to take a little gentle coaxing.”
“I don’t know if you know this, but I’ve been a homicide investigator for a fucking while now.”
“And you’re one of the best,” he comments. “But right now, you’re a little ... off your game.”
“Off my game?” My head jerks back from the blow. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about your quick trigger. I’m talking about the fact that you just lost your shit on a roomful of officers who weren’t doing anything wrong. I’m talking about the fact that you’re on edge these days.”
My nostrils flare. “I’m fine.”
Shane eyes me closely, his face silently telling me I need to get my shit together, and I let out a deep exhale.
“Okay, fine. Yeah. Maybe I’m a little on edge,” I answer, even though speaking the truth feels like nails scraping across my throat.
“It’s all good, brother.” Shane pats me on the arm. “Just take a beat to get your focus and we’ll go chat with the neighbor.”
I nod as I step back to lean against the wall that leads to the stairwell. Shit’s been fucked for almost a week, and it doesn’t take a genius to deduce why. Five days ago, I told Hannah I’d paid off thereverse mortgage on her mom’s house in the name of giving her a choice—giving her the option to control her own life so she didn’t have to keep working at Call Me Anytime.
I thought she’d be happy. I thought she’d see it as an opportunity for her to go back to college, finish her degree, and actually be able to have the career she’s always dreamed of without carrying the financial burden she has been for years.
But she wasn’t anything but pissed. Angry. Fucking sad.
She ripped up the check and told me to get the hell out. Ever since, I’ve been trying to reach out to her, but she’s been completely MIA. The only response I’ve gotten from her is the check she mailed me to pay back part of the reverse mortgage I paid off, along with a handwritten note detailing her plans to pay me back in full.
Though I refuse to cash it—or any other check she sends my way. Hannah deserves the freedom from her financial burden.
Too bad it’s only costing you your relationship with her ...
Fuck. The whole situation is hell, to be honest, and it’s all my mind wants to think about. If I’m not at work, I’m thinking about Hannah. If I’m at work, I’m thinking about Hannah. If I’m awake at night, I’m making discreet drive-bys of Hannah’s place just to make sure she and her mom and Lovie are safe.
Get it together, man.
I take a deep breath, close my eyes for a brief moment, and force myself to focus on the task at hand—a new homicide that Shane and I need to investigate.
When I open my eyes, Shane is sitting on the stairs, his face fixated on the screen of his phone.
“Okay,” I announce, stepping forward with determination. “Let’s do this.”
Shane nods and stands. I follow his lead up the stairwell to apartment 503.
But once we reach the fifth floor, he stops to answer his ringing phone.
“Maddox,” he greets, and I stand there, waiting for him to finish before knocking on the victim’s neighbor’s door.
His brow furrows as he listens to whatever is being said on the other end of the line. “What about Dunphy?”
My ears perk up at the name I know is related to the Call Me Anytime case.
“Shit,” Shane mutters. “Can’t deny I’m surprised.” He turns to look out the window of the fifth-floor hallway. “No ... we’re in the same boat with McHugh ... Yeah ... Well, Cap already said we had to pull the wiretap, so we’re going to have to figure out another plan ...”
Pull the wiretap?
“Okay ... Keep me updated.” He ends the call and slides his phone back into his suit jacket as he turns to face me.
“What’s going on?”
