Page 63 of Call Me Anytime
“Okay. Where are you? What’s your ETA?”
I glance back toward the kitchen, realizing my current logistics are a little complicated. “I need, like, forty minutes. Just have to take Hannah home first.”
“TakeHannahhome?” he questions. “Where are you?”
“At my parents’ house.”
“Hannah is with you at your parents’ house?” His voice has an edge. An edge I don’t necessarily understand.More like you don’t want to understand.
“It’s Louie’s birthday,” I try to explain, but the line goes silent for so long that I end up asking, “You still there?”
“Yeah. I’m here.” Shane’s voice is the kind of quiet that doesn’t make you feel good. “But I can’t deny I’m having a hell of a time understanding your current situation.”
My current situation—a.k.a. why Hannah is with me.
“Just sit tight. I’m on my way,” I retort, ignoring whatever he’s trying to insinuate. But his words echo long after I hang up, forcing me to confront what I already know deep down—this isn’t about the case anymore. It’s about protecting Hannah. It’s abouther.
And you’d do just about anything for her—no matter the cost.
24
Dominic
7:00 p.m.
The instant I walk into the station, I find Shane standing near reception, chatting up Colleen, another detective in our unit he’s been fixated on lately.
Two months ago, it was Demi, an officer who runs a beat out of MNPD’s South Precinct.
And a few months prior to that it was Nadia, a forensics investigator stationed out of our North Precinct.
All three are blond, blue-eyed, and outspoken in the kind of way that makes it clear they take zero shit—otherwise known as Shane’s favorite brand of woman.
“Where is he?” I ask, and Shane nods toward the back of the station, where our interrogation rooms reside.
“Three.”
I offer Colleen a nod hello and keep walking.
“Whoa!” Shane calls, jogging to catch up. “Where’s the fire?”
“I’d say it’s in three,” I answer, still moving toward the hallway where the interrogation rooms sit.
“And what is your plan exactly?”
Only then do I pause, as I stand right outside interrogation room 3’s door. “To fucking interrogate him?”
Shane’s eyes are filled with scrutiny as they search mine. “What’s going on, man?”
“What do you mean, what’s going on?” I counter. “I left a family party to come down here and have a nice little chat with this piece of shit.”
Shane just stares at me.
“You got a problem with that?”
“No.” He shrugs. “But I am a little worried about the approach.”
I know Shane is right to be cautious, but I can’t seem to temper the frustration building inside me. My blood is practically boiling, and I can’t stop thinking about all the disgusting shit Waylon has said to Hannah. Can’t stop thinking about the fact that she has to deal with scum like him every time she picks up that fucking CMA line.
