Page 35 of Capitol Matters

Holland shot me a look of warning.

“Forget them.” I waved a dismissivehand. “It’s you I wanted to talk about. You’re the gatekeeper, right? That’s how it works.”

“So, you only want to prove yourself to me so you can get in with the other investigators?” Another raised brow arched high over the frames of her shades.

I frowned. “That’s… not what I said.”

The walkie talkie clipped to the dashboard squawked. Holland pumped the brakes and swerved into a streetside parking space. Velcro crunched as she peeled the walkie loose, then spun the volume to high.

“Attention, all units.” An unknown voice crackled across the line. “We have a priority call for a robbery in progress. All available units, please respond to 879 Market Street immediately. Suspects are armed and dangerous. Approach with caution. Acknowledge.”

Before the radio finished its announcement, Holland had typed the address into the car’s GPS and set our course.

“Copy, dispatch,” she said into the walkie, then turned on the siren. “I’m three minutes out.”

The infotainment screen confirmed her statement and began voice guidance as we pulled away from the curb.

“A robbery, huh?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant while my mind raced with possibilities.

Holland glanced from the road to the on-screen map and back and finally muttered under her breath, “At a bank.”

Bank robbery. Sounded exciting. Something a man with a flair for drama would come up with.

A man like Avery Hale.

I swallowed a curse and turned toward the passenger window, not trusting my poker face.

That was a reality I needed to prepare for. A call for backup meant other investigators were already on the scene, and we could be walking into a firefight. It wouldn’t be as simple as redirecting Holland with an excuse about a missed meal. And lack of trust would be the least of my problems if Holland got wind of me assisting the enemy or hesitating to attack them.

I could stall the squad car. Pop a tire. Let someone else respond to the call—someone who wasn’t with me. But I was only a consultant, right? I had no skin in this game. It wasn’t my concern. According to Grimm, neither was the gang.

Then why was I so worried about it?

Three minutes came and went without any intervention on my part. The siren shut off as we parked outside Loan Wolves Bank & Trust, a modest local institution bricked in red.

Trying to see through the grid of black tinted windows yielded no results, just the reflection of trees swaying in the breeze and the few cars that joined ours in the lot.

Holland shifted into park and brought the radio to her lips once again. “Dispatch, I’m on site. Going in for recon. I’ll report back as soon as I know more.”

Reattaching the walkie to the dash, she pulled the keys from the ignition, then threwopen her door. I followed suit and had one foot on the pavement outside when the investigator rounded the vehicle to stand before me.

“Fitch, I need you to wait here,” she said. “Don’t let any customers go in. When other officers arrive, tell them I’m getting the lay of things. Shouldn’t take more than five minutes.”

She took hold of the door, then nodded toward my leg sticking out in an unspoken command to get in my seat. I bristled. Was I to direct traffic from here, then? Peel back anyone who tried to approach the building like I had a telekinetic fishing pole to hook them with?

Capitol Fitch would wait because he wanted to earn the investigator’s trust. Grudgingly, so did I.

Protest died behind my frown as I tucked my leg inside the car. Holland mouthed the words “thank you,” then pushed the door closed.

She didn’t even crack a window.

Bathed in bright daylight, the investigator shrunk rapidly down, melting into the puddle of her own shadow. She formed a black, amorphous blob that slid along the sidewalk toward the bank’s entrance. I couldn’t help but be impressed; she’d certainly honed her skills since middle school.

The air in the patrol car grew thick and stuffy. Grumbling, I shrugged out of the suit coat and tie and tossed them into the backseat.

She could die in there, my brain nagged. Historically, investigators didn’t have the best track record against the Bloody Hex. Though, Holland’s odds may have improved facing this watered-down version of themurderous gang.

I drummed my fingers against the window ledge. If I were an animal, it would be cruel to leave me out here. Wondering. Waiting.

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