Page 122 of Ink and Ashes
I stare down at the papers scattered across the table, hoping some type of clue pops out at me. “No. But I don’t have any other options right now.” I look back up at him. “Can you find Chief and let him know too? I’ll go fill everyone else in.”
“Yeah, no problem.” He takes a step closer and places a hand on my shoulder. “Are you good?”
I shake my head, checking my phone again. Still nothing.
Fuck. This can’t be good.
“No. But I’m trying not to worry until I know something’s really wrong.” I shake my head, clenching my jaw. “Let’s go.”
We make our way back downstairs to the bay, finding today’s crew sitting at the table. Beau continues through to the lobby toward Chief’s office.
“What’s going on, Lieutenant?” Adler asks, a nervous tick in his jaw. They’ve suspected something for weeks, and I feel guilty for keeping it from them until now. Especially since it might have prevented us from reaching this point in the first place.
I blow out a breath, cracking my knuckles. “So, you know that Holland’s theory of arson has been circulating for the past couple months?—”
“Yeah, what’s going on with that? She have proof of it yet?”
“Yes. And she has evidence to support that”—I clear my throat—“that the arsonist is a firefighter.”
Chaos erupts in the bay, just like I suspected it would.
“Guys, quiet!” I call out over them, but they all continue talking. At least until Beau runs back into the bay, a concerned look on his face.
“Lieutenant?” Liv asks as she looks at Beau, who stares at me.
“What is it?”
“Chief wasn’t in his office.” He takes a step forward, his concern growing, though I’m not sure why. It’s not unusual for Chief Whitlock to cut out during the day. He’s on-call every day, so he doesn’t spend time at the station unless he has to.
“Okay, no problem. Try calling him.”
Beau exhales. “I will, but?—”
He’s cut off by the sound of my phone ringing. I hold up a hand, pulling it out of my pocket. When I see the nameHollandlighting up my screen, every ounce of worry I felt a moment ago fades away.
I can’t answer the phone fast enough.
“Hol? God, you have me worried sick. Are you okay?” I’m met with nothing but heavy breathing. “Holland, where are you?”
“She’s with me,” a man’s voice states.
A voice I’d recognize anywhere.
“Whitlock?” My brows pull together as a collective gasp is heard from behind me. “What are you—” I cut myself off as realization hits me.
Holy fuck.
His resounding chuckle sends a shiver up my spine. “Looks like your girl finally figured it out, eh, Caldwell? Too bad she was too late.”
My voice is an octave lower from the anger coursing through my bloodstream as I ask, “Where is she?”
“Oh, don’t worry. She’s safe—for now, anyway. She’s taking a nice nap.”
“Don’t you dare?—”
“What, hurt her?” He clicks his tongue. “You know, Caldwell, I’d really hate to be the reason another one of your girlfriends dies, but she just knows too much. She’s left me no choice.”
His mention of Ellie only confirms that Holland was right about the apartment fire. A sharp pain stabs me in the chest, but I force myself to focus on the present. On the woman I can stillsave.
