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Switching gears, I call the police department and ask for Jarrod James. If he won’t answer my personal calls, I’ll make him answer me through the department. We should have been informed the moment he escaped by him or someone on his team, not by Kevin himself.
It’s been almost twelve hours since Lay got that fucking call, and we are nowhere closer to figuring out what happened. I have a bad feeling in my gut about this.
It’s killing me that I don’t know what to do to make our family safe. This is what I do, I protect people. So then why can’t I do anything to stop this? Failure is not an option, but it feels like the path we’re headed down only has failure waiting for us at the end.
Adam walks in the living room, his hair sticking up in a million directions from the restless bit of sleep he got. We were all up half the night trying to console Lay, figure out what’s going on, and make sure this house is secured better than the Whitehouse.
“No luck?” he asks, throwing himself on the couch with a groan.
I shake my head and drag a hand through my hair in frustration. “None. I was just about to call the department to try to get through to him there. Jarrod is the lead on this case, he needs to come out of hiding eventually.”
“Fuck,” Adam curses under his breath. “This is so fucked up. We just started getting past this and now we’re being dragged back in to this lunatic’s murderous delusions.”
“This wouldn’t be happening if people did their fucking jobs right,” I spit out. Grinding my teeth together, I work to calm the rage boiling inside of me. “Someone as dangerous as Kevin should never have had the opportunity to get out. We still don’t even fucking know if it was an escape or if the system was just too fucking useless to protect anybody.”
Using the palms of my hands, I rub my dry, tired eyes to try and work out my exhaustion and anger. The rage will have a time and a place to be released, but now is not it. Calm, logical thinking is what I need to use to get the answers we need.
“You need some sleep, man. Maybe do that before calling the station?” Adam sits forward, looking at me with sympathy and worry. “You’re not going to be able to do much if you’re down and out from sleep deprivation.”
He’s right, I know he’s right. However, instead of listening to him and my logical brain, I pick up my phone and scroll through my contacts until the number comes up. Pressing the dial button, I place it to my ear and wait as the ringing starts.
“I’m just going to leave a message for Jarrod and then I’ll go lie down,” I inform Adam when he glares at me. “I promise.”
Rolling his eyes as if he doesn’t believe me, Adam gets up and heads out of the living room. The bathroom door closes a moment later with a soft click so as not to wake up Riggs or Lay.
An officer I don’t recognize answers the phone, her voice monotone and detached. Dialing back my anger, I put on my work voice that’s both professional and stern.
“I’m looking to speak with Detective Jarrod James. My name is Rhys Larsen,” I state, keeping all emotion out of my tone. “It’s regarding an urgent matter and I cannot reach him through his personal phone.”
“Would you please hold for a moment?” The officer puts me on hold without waiting for an answer. The stupid elevator music that plays while on hold gets on my nerves quickly, reminding me just how on edge I am.
The phone clicks then rings again, ramping my anger up yet another notch. My call was obviously transferred without even giving me a heads up. One point for efficiency, five points lost for being an uncommunicative dick.
“Detective Paul Mercer,” a male voice answers, the sound of shuffling papers in the background. “This is Rhys Larsen, correct? I understand you’re looking for Jarrod James regarding a case.”
“Yes, that’s correct,” I answer hesitantly, my anger dissipating into confusion. “He was handling a case involving a stalker for my girlfriend who assaulted me and held my roommates at gunpoint. The assailant's name was Kevin Jennings Jr.”
More sounds of shuffling paper come through the phone followed by a muffled curse from the detective. It’s another few seconds before he comes on the phone, his tone exasperated and tired.
“I have the case in front of me now. I apologize for the wait,” Paul murmurs. “I’ve been working on catching up on the case files left behind by Jarrod, but he was not the most organized detective so it’s been difficult.”
“Where is Jarrod? Did he transfer to another unit? I used to be his partner before I took a leave of absence from the job,” I say, hoping to ease this new detective into revealing more to me than he would a normal civilian.
“Ah! That’s why your name struck a note with me. You’re still frequently celebrated by some of the officers here.” Mercer sighs after that, letting go of his more professional tone. “The truth is we don't know what happened to Jarrod. He just up and left about two months ago without a trace. I transferred in not too long after it happened and was thrown into all of his cases.”
A string of curses creative enough to make a sailor blush leaves my mouth. Of fucking course Jarrod just up and left all of his responsibilities. It’s so in character for him it’s almost funny. Except it’s not because it’s fucking with my family.
“That explains why we never received a call to inform us that Kevin is no longer locked up,” I exclaim with a humourless laugh. “I’m guessing it fell through the cracks between the prosecutor and your department since the lead detective is M.I.A.”
“Say that again?” Paul asks frantically.
“Kevin called my girlfriend last night to let her know he was out and he was coming for us,” I inform him, settling my rage as much as I can since it’s really not his fault.
“No, that shouldn’t be right. This case file is a fucking disaster and incomplete just like all the others, but I know for a fact there’s been no discharge papers done up for Kevin,” Paul remarks in frustration. “I’m going to figure out how it’s possible for him to be contacting her. Alayna Morgan, correct?”
Laying back on the couch, I place an arm over my eyes and respond. “Yeah, that’d be her. Call me back when you learn something. I’d also be interested in seeing how incomplete that folder is, if you’re up for showing me. I’d be more than happy to fill in the gaps that Jarrod left.”
“That may be helpful, especially if we now have a fugitive on the loose. Take my cell number, I’ll be more than likely contacting you from that number.” Paul rattles off his cell as well as his phone extension for his desk. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this. You don’t know to trust me yet, but I promise you that you can.”
