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And he heard her determination, too.
"Okay. I have two units within three blocks of the building. Lights and sirens on. Jacob?"
He heard her cautionary tone clearly. "Yeah?"
Jacob slammed the staircase door open and barreled down the stairs.
"I think you're the closest."
He wished that wasn't the case. He wanted someone there faster.
He wanted to be there ten minutes ago.
Fuck.
"Getting off the phone. I'm going to try to reach Molly. Stay on this."
"You know I will."
And he did. Irish and the other 911 Dispatch operators were the best. Knowledgeable. Dedicated. Determined. They were a formidable group on their own, but knowing that they had the entirety of Center City's First Responders at their fingertips? They were a winning team that he was proud to be on.
He crashed into the ground floor door with his shoulder and unlocked his car at a run.
The phone to Molly's office was busy.
He tried to ignore the image that popped into his head. The phone handset upended on her desk. Off the hook and terribly useless.
Jacob opened the door of his car, bouncing the edge of it off of the door of the car next to his.
Sliding into the driver's seat, he tossed his phone down onto the dashboard and listened as his phone tried to ring through to her cell. A quick flip of a switch and the lights on his car flared to life. Red and Blue reflecting off of every surface around him as he put the car into gear.
It rang and it rang.
He took the corner with a furious twist of the wheel and continued down the street with the gas pedal full on the floor.
It rang again, and then it stopped.
"This is Molly. Don't bother with a message. Just text me. It's easier that way."
Still, the phone offered up a quick BEEP and then went silent to accept a message.
"I'll be there in a minute, Molly. Hold on. Please, hold on damn it! I can't lose you."
Then he swept the phone off of the dash with the back of his hand and heard it hit his passenger window with a dull thump.
He didn't care if he'd destroyed his phone.
He'd destroy a thousand of them for her.
Anything, for her.
And how the hell had he waited so long to come to that conclusion?
He just hoped it wasn't too late.
* * *
Calling Detective Rafferty wasn't planned. It was more of an instinct.
