Page 30 of Bourbon & Blood

I sighed and wrote down what I’d last seen her wearing and added that she could have changed and that her last known location could have possibly been the Ritz – which I knew from the email on her computer but I didn’t share that part; not yet.

I felt sick lining out what she did for work etc., knowing that she would be judged, but I would rather the judgment and condemnation of strangers and that she be found safe than the alternative of never knowing. I wanted her here and mad at me more than anything.

“You the one lookin’ to file a missin’ person’s report?” a voice asked me. I looked up at a woman who in a word, looked… bored.

“Yes, my friend Maya, she’s missing.”

“You finish that yet?” she asked, thrusting her pointed chin at the clipboard in my hands.

“No, not yet,” I answered.

“’Kay, good. It’ll give me enough time to get a cup of coffee. I’m Detective Lydia Baumgartner. You are?”

“Alina, Alina Bouchard,” I said, and I held out my hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Her blue eyes flicked from my hand to my face and she tucked a tendril of her blonde hair back behind her ear and said, “Right. I’ll be back in a few minutes. You finish that up and we’ll talk.” She inclined her head and took a step back and I dropped my unshaken hand.

Rude,I thought to myself as I watched her walk away.

I put my mind to finishing the report in my hands and managed to not only finish but to double-check my work and make sure I didn’t miss anything before she returned.

“That done?” she asked.

“Yes!” I handed it to her, and she glanced over it, flipping the pages awkwardly, her cup of coffee in her other hand.

“Okay,” she said with a gusty sigh. “Go ahead and give Pritchard back his clipboard and you can go. We’ll be in touch.”

“What?” I asked, completely gobsmacked.

“You heard me,” she said. “We’ll be in touch. Try to have a good day.”

She turned to walk away from me and my temper snapped.

“Don’t you walk away from me!” I snarled, and she turned.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yes. Exactly. What the actual fuck is wrong with you people?” I demanded. “It says on the side of your fucking cars you ‘serve and protect’ but I haven’t seen either of those things out of you!Maya Bashaw! She’sCouncilman Bashaw’s daughterand she’smissing! Maybenowyou’ll want to care about her,” I said, and the tears stung my eyes. I was so fuckingangry…and I felt so fuckinghelplessand Ihated itwith a passion.

“Look,” the detective said sharply. “We’ll look into it. City Councilman’s daughter or not – she’ll get the same treatment as everyone else. Now I suggest you go home andwe’ll be in touch.”

She turned testily and marched away from me, the desk sergeant buzzing her through the door and into the back.

I went back to the desk and tossed his clipboard onto it.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Fuck you,” I snarled at him. He just shook his head, chuckling; fuckinglaughing at me.

“Assholes,” I muttered to myself as I stalked up the street and wondered to myself,now what was I going to do?

“Damnit, Alina,” I grumbled to myself. “You shouldn’t have lost your cool.” I sighed and tried not to lose all sense of hope.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

La Croix…

She looked stressed.

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