Page 56 of Watch Me
I bobbed my head in agreement. “I’m going to go down and see what Will has found.”
“I’ll meet you down there.”
When I got down to the basement, the receptionist looked up from her computer and smiled. “Detective Valor, you’re back.”
“Sergeant Valor,” Icorrected.
“Oh, sorry.”
I opened my mouth to ask her how long she’d worked in the IT department, but my phone started to ring inside the pocket of my suit jacket. I pulled it out and saw it was my father calling. I turned and walked to stand next to the elevator. “Hey.”
“Son.”
“What’s up?”
“When were you going to tell me that Jessica has a restraining order against you?”
“It’s a protective order,” I clarified. As though that was better. I’d called my mother to tell her that we weren’t coming for our monthly dinner and explained why, so of course, she’d told my father. I wasn’t trying to keep it from him; I just had a lot on my mind given thecircumstances.
“Ethan!” hescolded.
“I’m handling it, Dad.”
“How?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s connected to the …” I hesitated, then lowered my voice because I wasn’t that far away from the receptionist. “Remember how I told you someone broke into Reagan’s place, and that was why I asked you to change the locks?”
“Yeah.”
“We have evidence that the break-in is connected to the murders I’m investigating.”
There was a brief pause. “There’s a serial killer in Chicago?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. The elevator dinged, and Shawn stepped out. “I can’t talk about this right now.”
“I don’t like this.”
“And you think I do?” Shawn furrowed his brows, and I held up afinger.
“I’ll go talk to her.”
“No!” I shouted and then lowered my voice again. “I plan to talk to her tonight.”
“But she has a protective order against you. You can’t go talk to her even if you’re the cop on the case. You can go to jail for violating the judge’s order.”
“Yeah, I know, but I have to do something.”
“Let me go talk to her. The boys can still come over for dinner. It’s not good for them to change their routine.”
“I know it’s not.”
“I’ll deal with her.”
“No. Just let me handle it.” I watched Will walk up to the reception desk. “I have to go.”
“I’m dealing with this,” herepeated.
“Dad,” Igroaned.
