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“Now that we have a second, let’s go back over the kidnapping and dead body thing,” Duke said to me, his fingers scratching his forehead under his trademark rolled red bandana.
My cell phone rang.
Saved by the cell.
I flipped it open.
“Hello?”
Silence, then a quiet voice said, “I need a Rock Chick rescue.”
“Sorry?” I asked.
“A scary guy was at the door. He’s gone, but I know he’s gonna come back, I know it. He knows I’ve got them and he’s gonna get me like he got Tim.”
It was The Kevster. Who was at the door, only God knew, but it didn’t sound good. And The Kevster had something, something I hoped was glittery and worth a million dollars.
“Kevin?” I asked.
“You gotta help me.”
The phone went dead.
I looked to Ally.
“The Kevster’s in trouble.” I swung my eyes to Hank. “We gotta roll.”
I took off from behind the counter, but was halted on a skid when Hank grabbed a handful of my tee.
“What’s goin’ on?”
I gave him the lowdown, trying to pull him along with me. He stood stock-still and shook his head.
“I’ll call it in,” Hank said.
“No! No cops,” I replied. “He’s a little…sensitive.”
Hank stared at me and his mouth got tight.
“I’m a cop,” he reminded me.
“Not today,” I tried.
I failed.
“Everyday,” he returned.
“Hank, seriously, for some reason he trusts me and Ally. We gotta go and you gotta be cool.”
“Indy, seriously, you aren’t going anywhere and I don’t gotta be anything.”
Ally walked up to us. “I’ll go.”
“You aren’t going either.” Hank looked at the both of us. “Jesus. I’ll go.”
Hank started walking to the door asking where Kevin lived.
I followed close behind.
