Page 20 of Give Me Redemption

I roll my eyes immediately. “Bye, Miller.”

I hear him laugh, but I don’t bother turning around. I exhale, dropping my hands in my lap.

I’ve worked on some of my other cases, even though Davy told me to make this new one my priority.

It’s a shit job, and he knows it. I mean, I guess it’s not completely shit, but it’s not what I want to focus my time on.

I have read through the file, realizing they don’t really have a whole lot to go on here.

This man, Bryce Grant, was adopted when he was thirteen, but they don’t know what happened to his parents. He has a brother named Jace. I know that the two weren’t separated.

He lives here in Atlanta and his adopted father owns a ranch up north. He has no social life that I see, even though he owns the most successful club in downtown Atlanta.

I remove my black-framed glasses and rub my eyes. It seems I have a lot to find out. I guess I’ll visit this club and see what the fuss is about. I’m not a club going kind of girl. I’m more of a glass of wine, watching-the-game type of chick, but I gotta do what I gotta do at this point.

Stupid fucking case. Why couldn’t Monroe get it? I turn around, shut the folder, reach up, and shut my computer off before I stand. I grab my blazer from the back of my chair and slide my arms through the sleeves.

“Calling it a night?” Monroe asks. He’s a tall, slender man and is on date number two this month with a chick he met at the sports bar we all sometimes go to after work.

“Yeah,” I reply as I grab my keys, phone, and the folder I wish I could make disappear.

I walk over and lean against his desk. He looks up at me. I cross my arms, gnawing on my inner cheek, wondering if should try to get him to focus on this case. If he can take the lead, and we not tell Davy, then I could continue working on the ones I already have.

It’s a shit idea. Davy would find out and have my ass.

“Can I help you with something?” Monroe asks.

I push off the desk, hitting it with my folder before saying, “Nah. See you tomorrow.”

“Night,” he replies.

After I head down, I hop into my car, the lights illuminating the car garage when I turn the key. I put it in drive and head home.

__________

I push my key into the lock and open the door to my apartment. Removing my gun and badge, I place them onto the table before slipping off my shoes and rubbing the bottoms of my feet.

“Slim Jim,” I call out, wondering where my fluffy cat is. I hear a meow, and he comes pitter-pattering around the corner. He rubs his body against my leg, and I reach down and lift him up, snuggling against his fur. “Hungry, big boy?”

We walk to the kitchen before I place him on the floor and reach into the cabinet for his food. I grab the can opener from the drawer and open the top.

“Today was crappy. I’m on a new case I have no passion for. Some big-time is doing dumb shit and I have to change my whole life to bust him before I can get back to the things I really care about. And we both know what that is, don’t we, Slim?”

I set the can down onto the floor and rub his head as he begins to eat. With a groan I stand back up and walk over to the fridge.

Grabbing the wine bottle, I kick the door shut, step over Slim, and reach for a glass. I take a spoon from the dish drain and my jar of peanut butter from the counter.

Walking into the living room, I place everything onto the table before removing my blazer. I stretch my arms back, untuck my blouse, and reach for the wine opener from the coffee table that I never took back to the kitchen the night before.

I pop the cork, fill my glass, and plop down onto the sofa. Reaching for the peanut butter, I twist the top off and dip my spoon in before bringing it to my mouth.

I hold my wine glass, circling the contents. I turn my head and my eyes go to the wall near my window. With my spoon still in my mouth, my eyes scan over it.

Thumbtacks hold pictures in place. Newspaper clippings, photos taken at gas stations. Rows and rows of a man with a blue baseball hat driving a red truck and a girl sitting in the passenger seat.

Articles readLocal Girl Stolen from Home in the Middle of the Night.

After Three Years, the Search is off for the Dalton Girl.

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