I untie the apron from around my waist. Charlie stands up at the bar.
“Where are you headed?” he asks.
“I don’t know.” Maybe the BPD field office to have it out with Lotham. Or... “I’m going to head to the rec center.”
“This time of night?”
“It all started there. And all roads keep leading back there. I can’t put my finger on it, but that’s the place to be.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
I don’t argue. A hulking bodyguard is not a bad idea at all. Which leaves me one last task. I bolt back to Stoney’s office, where he’s pecking away at his ancient computer.
“Bye,” he says, without looking up.
“I have a lead.”
“Bye.”
“I’ll be back, I’m so sorry.”
Stoney finally glances at me. “Go,” he says.
So I do, Charlie in tow. We’ve barely stepped outside the bar when my phone rings. It’s Emmanuel and the boy sounds hysterical.