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ETHAN
Iyank open the glass door and storm into the police station. Delaney is sitting on a chair in the front reception area and the second she sees me, she jumps up.
“Where is she?” I yell, my head moving from Delaney to the young woman sitting at the desk and back to Delaney again.
“She’s in with the detective,” Delaney says, walking over and putting a hand on my arm.
“Is she okay?” I demand.
Delaney smiles, rolling her eyes a little as she says, “Actually, she’s mad as hell, but yeah she’s okay.”
I exhale, turning back to the woman behind the desk as I say, “I need you to take me to see her.”
The poor woman’s eyes widen as she gives me a nod and picks up the phone. She’s either really new at the job and thinks that anyone who walks in and demands something is what she should do, or she’s been expecting me.
While I wait, I turn back to Delaney, blowing out a long breath, trying to calm down. This isn’t Delaney’s fault. Shit it’s not even the woman at the counter’s fault either. “Thanks, Del,” I eventually say.
“Of course,” she says, shrugging, like it’s no big deal.
“You sure she’s okay?”
Delaney nods. “Yes, I mean physically she’s fine. We spent the day at the spa, thank you by the way, and it wasn’t until we left and she saw her phone that she knew something was up. We came straight here, it was me who texted you on the way.”
“Thank you,” I reply, shoving a rough hand through my hair. “I really appreciate it, seriously.”
“It’s all good, I know she has John Cena with her, but I didn’t want to leave her alone,” she adds, waving a hand around the reception area
“Who?” I ask, confused.
Delaney laughs. “She calls her security guy John Cena, even though his name is Eric.”
Chuckling, I shake my head as I mutter, “Of course she does. Listen if you want to take off, it’s all good. I got this. I can give you a call after?”
“Okay, sure,” she replies. “Tell her I said bye.”
“I will and thanks again, Delaney, seriously.”
After Delaney leaves, I pace the small waiting area as I wait to be taken back to see Zoey. Eventually the door opens, and she and the detective walk out, trailed by the security guy I hired.
“Ethan,” Zoey exhales, sounding exhausted.
I walk over and pull her into my arms, kissing the top of her head as I ask, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Pissed off more than anything.”
Me too. Pissed off that this is happening to her, pissed off that this asshole still seems to be fucking with us and pissed off that Detective Simmons doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere with any of it.
“So?” I spit out, turning to face the detective. “Do you have anything?”
He shakes his head, a sympathetic look on his face as he replies, “No, burner phone obviously, number is already out of service. There’s not much we can do.”
“Seems like there’s not much you’ve been doing about any of it,” I shout, beyond frustrated.
“Ethan,” Zoey murmurs, pulling back a little.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “This is bullshit. Whoever is doing this is still out there and more than that, it now seems like they’re not only watching us, but are fucking with her even more. Why the hell haven’t you caught this guy yet?” I ask, my anger directed at the detective.
Detective Simmons holds up a hand. “Mr. Morrison, I can assure you we are doing everything we can. The number was always going to be a bust. Whoever is doing this was using burners before, so we had to have expected this. But what I would like to do is request the security footage from the lodge, particularly around the spa facility,” he says. “It’s possible this guy knew Ms. Holden was there when he made the phone calls given the number of them.”
