Page 138 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

“I…Please…”

“Mom, call nine-one-one!”

“No! No!” Her mother sounded urgent, frightened. Oh, God, her father’s heart. That’s what it was.

“Then, I’ll call.”

“No, Nicole, don’t.”

“For crying out loud. Then call Lily or Kyle. I’m on my way. Mom?” Her cell phone died, the battery exhausted.

“Crap,” Nikki said, and punched the accelerator. She only hoped she could get to her father in time. The drive was only ten minutes, but that time could be critical. She punched out 911 on her cell, was connected, then heard the operator answer.

“Nine-one-one. Police Emergency”—before the connection failed.

“This is Nikki Gillette. Please send someone to my father, Ronald Gillette’s, address.” She yelled the address into her phone, then told the dispatcher to get hold of Pierce Reed, but it was to no avail. Her phone was dead.

Reed tried Nikki on her cell again. No answer. He left another message, then called the Sentinel and was told by an icy receptionist that “Nicole Gillette” was unavailable. When he pressed for a time he could expect her to return, the receptionist said she had no idea.

It didn’t feel right.

But then, nothing did.

He dialed her apartment and got the answering machine. For whatever the reason, Nikki was under the radar and he didn’t like it.

At all.

He grabbed his jacket and stopped by Morrisette’s desk.

She was going through a pile of paperwork but looked up at the sound of his footsteps. “I heard you tried to turn in your badge.”

“Good news travels fast.”

“Don’t do it, Reed.”

“Why not?”

“She’s not worth it.”

He waited.

“Look, I’m not blind, okay? I saw the two of you together. You’ve got it bad for Nikki Gillette, but she’s just playin’ you, man. Using you for all she can.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Yeah. I am. And don’t ask me about the Grave Robber case, okay, cuz I can’t tell you anything.”

“Maybe I should

try Siebert.”

“Be my guest.” Morrisette wasn’t about to budge.

“So, did you check out Corey Sellwood and Sean Hawke?”

“I warned you.” She glared up at him and shuffled some papers, then sighed. “Okay, I don’t see what this will hurt. They’re clean, all right. Iron-clad alibis. Not suspects, so forget them. When we find Chevalier, we’ll have our boy.”

“Then find him,” Reed said. “Fast.”

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