Page 95 of Things We Hide from the Light
“Hey, it’s me. I need you to dig up everything you can on Duncan Hugo’s known associates. Concentrate on ones he’s known the longest. Specifically anyone with a face tattoo and anyone on the heftier side.”
I heard the crinkle of a potato chip bag.
“On it,” Zelda said, crunching noisily into my ear. “How’s life in Knockemup? You ready to run screaming to the closest metropolitan area yet?”
“Knockemout,” I corrected, heading in the direction of my vehicle.
“Whatevs. Hey, you hear about Lew?”
I stopped in the middle of the parking lot. “What about him?”
“He’s back on desk duty starting tomorrow.”
“He’s doing okay?” I asked.
“He’s fine. Said it would take more than a broken ass to keep him down. Besides, Daley told him he better get his busted ass back out there if he wants to keep earning.”
I waited for the relief to come, but it was only guilt that lingered.
TWENTY
CARPOOL CONFESSIONS
Nash
Iwas still pissed off over the breakfast ambush by the time I made it to the station. I didn’t know who I was more angry with: Lucian for overstepping, Knox for being a stubborn asshole, or Lina for still holding back on me when I’d been nothing but honest with her.
She’d texted three times saying she wanted to talk.
My guess was she was worried about what Lucian told me. Right now, I was in the mood to let her worry.
Or maybe this roiling inner rage was directed at myself.
At this point, it didn’t really matter. Everyone was pissing me off.
“You’re supposed to tell me where you’re gonna be, Morgan.”
I turned around and found an equally irate-looking U.S. marshal storming up the sidewalk toward the station’s side door.
I was not in the mood. “I’m already pissed off at two assholes who dragged me out of bed this morning. I were you? I wouldn’t be in a hurry to add your name to that list.”
“Look, shithead. I’m not happy about this assignment either. You think Ilikecamping out inDeliverancebanjo territory watching your ungrateful back for some threat that probably doesn’t even exist?” Nolan snapped back.
“Gee, I’m sorry you’re bored, Graham. Do you want a coloring book and some crayons? I’ll pick some up when I go get you a thank-you card and fucking balloons.”
Nolan shook his head. “Christ, you’re a dick. If I hadn’t seen you dealing with those kids yesterday and making that fuckhead cop piss his pants, I’d think the condition was permanent.”
“Yeah, well, maybe it is.”
To illustrate my point, I didn’t hold the door for him.
I acknowledged the round of “Mornin’, Chief,” with a curt nod as I headed straight for my office where I could shut the damn door on the whole damn world.
No one said anything to Nolan when he stomped in after me.
“Where’s Piper?” Grave asked, holding up a bag of the pet shop’s gourmet doggie treats.
Fuck.
