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We have to do this.
“Yeah,” I say again. “Okay.”
“Ready?” Dax asks. “We gotta swing by and get River.”
I down my coffee in two long gulps. It’s too hot for that, but I don’t care. I need the caffeine. Actually, I’d prefer a shot of something stronger, but the caffeine will have to do.
On the way to River’s house, I make the phone call. Dunagan left his card with Samuel Black when he questioned him after Mom’s arrest, and Linc texted me the number for his direct line last night. I hit the green CALL button and try to control the thudding of my heart as it rings once… twice…
Dunagan answers on the third ring, and the sound of his voice is like a visceral flashback to the night Mom got arrested.
“Hello?”
“Detective Dunagan?”
“Yes,” his measured voice says, “who’s this?”
“It’s Harlow Thomas. I met you when you—”
“Yes, I know who you are, Miss Thomas.” His voice has sharpened, and I can practically feel him sitting up straighter in his seat.
Fuck. Here we go.
“I wanted to see if I could meet with you. I have information about Iris Lepiane that I don’t think you found in your investigation.”
“I see.” His voice settles into a tired gravel. “Is this about that mysterious masked man?”
“No.”
Yes, it is, but I’m not telling him that. He already thinks I’m crazy and desperate. He won’t listen to me if he thinks I’m just going to rant conspiracy theories.
“Miss Thomas, I understand you’re upset about your mother, but I don’t have time to go on wild goose chases, do you understand me?”
“I do. This isn’t that. Can I just talk to you? I found something out that I think you should know. Please?”
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line before he finally speaks again.
“Fine. Next week. Monday. Come to my office.”
A week? Fuck, that’s further out than I was hoping for.
I get the feeling it’s deliberate on his part—Dunagan’s way of making sure I know that even though he’s agreed to meet with me, he doesn’t consider anything I have to say of urgent importance.
But if I push back, I’m sure I won’t get a meeting at all.
“Sure. Okay, I’ll be there. Thank you.”
“Uh huh.”
He hangs up, and I pull my phone away from my ear and stare at the screen, only realizing belatedly that my hands are shaking.
“He said yes?” Chase leans forward anxiously from the back seat.
“Yeah. Next week. I have to go to his office.”
The twins’ faces both fall in perfect synchronicity, and they recover themselves at almost the exact same time.
“Hey, it’s something.” Chase’s copper hair gleams in the morning light as he cocks his head. “At least he said yes.”
