Page 43 of Call Me Anytime
Me:You’ll probably have to replace the drywall then.
Dakota:And what about carpet?
Shane taps me on the arm, and I glance up from my phone to find James onstage and the band diving into “Body Like a Back Road.” I shake my head and laugh, not at all surprised that he’s gone with Sam Hunt. The bastard’s seen him in concert at least twenty times in the past five years alone.
His voice screeches when he starts crooning the opening lyrics, and I snort as I glance back down at my phone to answer my wild-ass sister.
Me:You’ll have to replace that too. And if you’ve got any bodies lying around, I’d consider getting rid of ’em. Or, you know, I could have a few officers come help you if you want ...
Dakota:You mean to tell me you’d actually narc on your baby sister?
Me:If you killed someone? Ha. Yes.
Dakota:You have zero loyalty, Dominic. Zero.
Me:What are you up to, sis? Wanna come down to Honky Tonk and have a drink with me and Shane and James?
Dakota:I’d rather get a root canal than listen to you and Shane argue like an old married couple. Plus, I have a date.
Me:Who?
Dakota:Like I’d tell you that. The last time I told you the name of the guy I was going on a date with, you and Shane showed up at the freaking restaurant. No thank you.
I laugh to myself when I think about that night. Dakota got so pissed at us when we pretended we needed to question the guy—whose name was Jackson, by the way—about an investigation. That dude nearly pissed himself when Shane told him he needed to come with us down to the station.
Me:Okay, that’s valid. But be safe, okay?
Dakota:I will.
When I look up from my phone, I find James still onstage with the band and Shane over at the bar, talking to some brunette in tight leather pants. Normally, I’d feel like I was missing out on the party, but if anything, I just feel relieved. It’s hard to focus on anything else when my mind keeps drifting to Hannah. I’ve been tempted to text her all damn day—just to check in, to make sure she’s okay—but I’ve been trying to keep it professional. She’s part of an investigation, for fuck’s sake, not my personal life.
But when I glance at my phone again and see her name below Dakota’s, my restraint crumbles. Screw professionalism. She’s been through enough, and if I can help her feel even a little better, I’m going to.
Me:How are you doing tonight? Feeling any better?
Not even a minute later, my phone vibrates in my hand with her response.
Hannah:Better. Not hyperventilating anymore, so that’s definitely a good thing, right? Though I still feel nervous about what I’ve gotten my mom and Lovie into ...
Me:Y’all are safe.
Hannah:Yeah, I remember the no hotels speech. I just wish I could convince myself it’s true. I don’t know why I have in my head that they know where I live, but I’ve really been freaking myself out.
An idea pops into my head.
Me:Would it make you feel better if I put a patrol car on your house tonight? Then at least you could get a good night’s sleep without having to worry.
Hannah:Could you do that???
It occurs to me that I’m not sure if I can or not. Captain Leonard has already started bitching about all the resources we’ve got tied up in this case, and I doubt he’s going to want to allocate more, but I guess I need to put my money where my mouth is and check.
Me:Probably. I’ll figure it out.
Hannah:Oh my God, I do really think that would help. At least for tonight. I seriously appreciate it so much.
Shit. No pressure or anything.
Climbing off my stool, I signal to Shane that I’m going to hit the head, and I walk to the back hallway, where I know it’ll be quieter. I dial the captain’s number and listen as it rings, knowing when he picks up, he’s not going to be thrilled.
