Page 50 of Capitol Matters

Left alone with my thoughts, I tried to rememberhow long ago Holland had been promoted to her current position. It was big news at the time. Maximus Lyle’s daughter rose through the ranks, impressing everyone along the way. Her office, however, was considerably less remarkable than her achievements. Perhaps she hadn’t had time to put her personal touch on the room. Though, judging from my time spent around her the past few weeks, it was equally likely she didn’t inhabit this space often enough to fuss over aesthetics.

In my pants pocket, my cell buzzed against my thigh. I fished it out and saw Donovan’s name on the caller ID. Strange to hear from him this time of day, especially since he’d had such a late night at Lock n’ Roll. I sent the call to voicemail, then tucked the phone away as the investigator reentered the room.

“Sorry about that,” she said.

My phone vibrated again. Text message, judging by the short burst of an alert. I ignored it as Holland returned to her seat and pressed her palms against the desktop.

“Where were we?” she asked.

Before I could answer, my cell resumed buzzing. Grimacing, I pulled it from my pocket and scowled at the screen. Another incoming call from Donovan. A message alert scrolled across in all caps.

HELP! SOS! EMERGENCY!!!

The call rolled over while I stared, and another rapid-fire text came through.

ANSWER YOUR PHONE!!!

“Is everything all right?” Holland asked.

I must have looked as shaken as I felt. That, or shewas irritated by the device that had suddenly captured my full attention.

“I-I’m sorry.” I rose from my chair and started toward the door. “I have to take this call.”

Rushing out of the office, I didn’t know what to think. Thoughts cluttered my mind, unformed but full of dread. My fingers felt numb as I swiped into the call log. When the phone started vibrating again, I almost dropped it.

“What?” I answered, pressing the cell to my ear.

I made speedy progress away from Holland’s office, my back to the trio of investigators lurking nearby. The other end of the line remained quiet for several seconds, disturbed only by the sound of rapid breathing.

It could have been someone else using Donovan’s phone. One of the escaped convicts or a newbie Hex member gone rogue. I wasn’t the only one with a tattoo worth killing for. A place in the gang and a seat at our table remained a hot commodity in the criminal world.

“Donnie?” I hissed.

It was unwise to say his name here, but logic was delayed by the onslaught of fear.

If he died, I would never forgive myself.

If he died after last night, when all I had to say about his angst and worry was that I’d been right about what a shitty criminal he’d be, I wouldneverforgive myself.

“Donnie!” I shouted into the receiver.

“He’s dead…” My brother’s voice was so choked I could barely understand him. Despite his obvious distress, relief washed over me.

A few employees walked past, and I forced a smileand wave at them before rushing down the hall toward the parking garage elevator.

“Who’s dead?” I whispered.

Sniffling preceded another sob-garbled statement. “It’s my fault,” Donovan said. “I screwed up. Promise you won’t tell Grimm.”

I punched the down arrow to call the elevator car. It must have already been on this floor because the door slid open immediately.

“I don’t tell him shit anymore,” I replied, keeping my voice low. Grimm had made it clear that the gang was no longer my concern, and I lumped him in with it. “Where are you?” I asked.

A long pause stretched until I got impatient and snapped his name.

“Storage,” Donovan replied.

Standing in the elevator, I remembered the last time I’d taken this ride to the parking garage. Moments before I’d discovered the mutilated corpse the investigators made of my car. Nash brought me here this morning on a belly full of toast and eggs, but he was back home and in bed by now, and I was across town with no car.

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