Page 4 of Pitbull
“Yes. So?”
“So? It meant your friend probably had a fight with her boyfriend and tore up the place. Give her a few hours to calm down.”
Anke pulled the phone away from her lips and ear and slammed it into the cradle a few times hoping the sound blew out the creep’s eardrums. Once she was partially satisfied with her revenge, she lifted the phone again. “So help me God, if we find her dead somewhere. I’ll make sure her family has all the information so they can sue you. And trust me, when they’re done, they’ll own your soul, you sorry excuse for a human being!”
“There’s no need for threats—”
“I don’t have the time or the patience for threats, asshole! It’s a promise!”
She hung up and tried one final department. But after a few minutes of answering questions, Anke knew how this was going to end. They were asking her question as if Claudia was some drugged up prostitute. There was just something in the way this man was speaking to her that rubbed Anke the wrong way.
“Danke. Du bist null die hilfe.”
“Wait a minute.” The cop protested. “Come on, now. I’m trying to help you. What do you mean I’m no help?”
“I said what I said!”
She slammed the phone down. What she’d really wanted to tell was to eat shit and die. But she had to act like an adult.
Again, Anke found her way back to the closet, with the newspaper page in her hand. She took a moment to reread the car’s description. Since, most likely, the reporters saw the thing from a helicopter, their description may not be entirely accurate. Yet, her gut told her something wasn’t right. If only she could convince the cops, so they’d tell her what they found in the car.
Then again, they probably didn’t even go there to look at it. Anke didn’t think a police officer had been to Metro Valley since that horrid day the dinosaurs met a comet years ago.
“Assholes.” She muttered, while pulling down the picture with the most recent date on it of precisely three months prior. It was of a GSG 9 officer in full gear. She couldn’t see his face, but he looked massive. Underneath, the caption read Sergeant Daniel Hunt of the GSG 9 Elite squad, CIRO.
“Well, since you boys are no help here.” Claudia folded the picture and shoved it into the side pocket of her purse. “Let’s see what Mr. Daniel Hunt has to say for himself.”
2
The CN Tower soared upward in the distance outside the window of the condo Daniel “Pitbull” Hunt had rented for his boys’ trip. He wrapped his fingers around his mug and exhaled. This had been a dream of his—and would have happened sooner except all hell broke loose with Beast and then with Barbie.
Silently, he shook it off. His team had come through with flying colours but were still sidelined while the head of GSG 9 performed investigations into the whole Beast Miracle incident. No, while he was on vacation he would not let work get in the way. His gang was safe and he was on vacation with two of his brothers.
There were so many things he wanted to get done while in Toronto. One of those things was to be harnessed so he could hang off the side of the CN Tower.
He smiled.
The trip had been something he’d put off for years before joining CIRO. Though he hadn’t been sure why. Maybe it had just been easier to work. Down time meant he had to slow his life and look around. It meant he would have had to take stock of what he had in his world and realize how dull it had become.
Still, it was a good thing he’d held off on travelling during CIRO’s downtime. Their friend Crash was caught up in a human trafficking ring that almost resulted in an international incident. Thankfully, the fact they took out a major operation outweighed the fact CIRO had been out of their jurisdiction. What was better, Crash was able to adopt two beautiful daughters and he and Barbie had decided to try dating.
A perfect example of good out of bad.
He took a sip from his coffee and glanced over his shoulder. John “Tex” Keegan and Sam “Mozart” Reed must still be asleep. He’d wanted all the men on CIRO to be there, but even though they were on down time, Mouth and Zero had their own plans. Beast was in the process of helping his lady finish home renovations and their trainee, Caleb “Crash” Pope had his hands full with being an instant father.
By the time Tex made his way out of the bedroom, Pitbull was sitting at his laptop trying to find somewhere close by for breakfast. Sure, they could cook, they were on vacation.
“Mornin’.” Tex grunted.
“Morning.” Pitbull looked up at him. “Coffee that-a-way Zombie Tex.”
Tex growled at him but Pitbull only laughed. He waited until Tex had taken a sip from the hot liquid before he said anything. “We should go out for breakfast.”
“Found anywhere interesting?”
“A couple of places. One of them we might have to cab it.”
“I’m gamed,” Tex said. “Maybe we should wake Mozart.”
