Page 4 of Paternal Instincts
Chuckling, he headed down the hall toward homicide, shamelessly belting out the opening lyrics to James Brown’s “I Got You,” ensuring both our departments knew he felt good.
Bastard.
Jordyn continued to glare, and I couldn’t help feeling two feet tall or like a guilty teen who had been busted by the cops having sex in the back of their parents’ car. It was an eerily similar experience, not that I’d ever been in that situation in my youth.
“Can we not lecture me about my poor decisions and move forward to whatever you need help with.”
“You’re disgusting.”
I had no defense. “Technically, I’m off the clock.”
“Technically, you’re at work. That’s a violation of Criminal Code S.173(1).”
“It’s scary that you know those specifics by heart.”
“This isn’t the first time, either.” She motioned to the supply closet, and my guilt and shame deepened.
“How do you—”
“Quaid, I’m not a moron. There are signs.” She motioned to my state of dress, or rather, undress—my shirt wasn’t tucked in, and I was sure my hair was doing a thing.
“Are you reporting me?”
She rolled her eyes, and in a flash, our ten-plus-year age gap righted itself. Whatever revulsion she carried morphed into concern as she glanced down the hall toward MPU. “I’ve got bigger problems than you flaunting your disgusting sex life in my face.”
“I wasn’t flaunting.”
“Fix your clothes. I need… help.”
“Jordyn?” My skin prickled as I made myself presentable.
Uncertainty cut grooves in her forehead when she met my eyes. “I don’t have a temp partner yet. Your replacement doesn’t start until Monday. No one else is in the office, and although Travolta is on call…”
“What is it?”
“I know what I’m doing, it’s just…”
“I know you do. What’s going on?”
“A man showed up. His son went missing three days ago. His daughter is with him. He’s exhibiting signs of shock. I haven’t gotten the whole story out of him, but—”
“Wait. Three days ago? That’s—”
“I know. Outside the ideal window of recovery. There’s more.” She handed me a slip of crinkled, cream-colored paper inside a clear evidence bag.
I took it, eyeing my partner as oily tendrils of dread slipped through my veins. It wasn’t often that a case upset Jordyn. Despite her young age, she was stoic and unshakable. Levelheaded. It was why we got along so well.
Glancing at the note, I read,If you ruin me, I’ll ruin you. The truth, or you’ll never see him again. No police!
“Jesus.” Hollywood made it seem like child abductions were done for monetary gain. Ransom notes gave a plot substance, but in reality, receiving them was rare. Having any contact with an abductor was unusual. In all my years working as an MPU detective, I’d dealt with one case of ransom, and it was at the beginning of my career.
I read the note again, focusing on keywords and reading between the lines despite its minimal substance. On instinct, I created a mental action plan and listed questions that needed to be answered and jobs that needed to be filled.
“We need to fingerprint this.”
“I know. I will. Quaid, I’ve never worked a ransom case.” Jordyn’s meek tone broke into my thoughts. “I’ve studied them. I know the logistics, but… I don’t feel comfortable with this. Not on my own. Technically, I should start a file since I’m here and the father is sitting in the bullpen coming apart at the seams, but…”
She blew her long black bangs off her face and paced, hands on her hips. “It should go to the next team in the rotation, who I thought was Travolta, but he and Keller took a call earlier that may or may not amount to a case, so they aren’t available. I’m up next.Me, but I’m alone until Monday or Tuesday. Edwards is still sorting out paperwork.”
