Page 105 of Concealed

Despite how far we’re coming from, we pull up to Matt’s bungalow at the same time the Vegas PD cruiser does.

That means Rebecca and Matt are alone in the house together and have been for God knows how long.

Rage simmers in my gut because Rebecca was probably expecting me to send help, to have someone waiting here for her, and now she’ll think that I abandoned her.

Before the car has fully stopped, I’m out of the vehicle and running toward the Vegas PD cruiser with Grant right behind me.

“Are you sure about this?” Grant’s contact is named Mike, and his face looks grim. “You do understand this is Commissioner Blair’s son, and we don’t have any room to fuck up. Literally zero leeway.”

“I’m aware of who Matt’s father is,” Grant acknowledges. “I don’t give a shit if he’s the son of God, he needs to be stopped. This is a welfare check. The man broke into Wyatt’s home, and we have reason to believe Rebecca is in danger. She made a report in the past–”

“Unsubstantiated,” Mike interjects.

I turn to Grant, and the doubt about the competence of his contact must be clear as day on my face because he rests a hand on my forearm to steady me – and maybe hold me back.

“That remains to be seen,” Grant says. “I’m not certain what a deeper investigation would have shown. Are you? Rebecca never got her day in court. The Vegas PD was too scared of Matt’s father, so they risked harm to an innocent civilian instead.”

My respect for Grant ratchets up into the stratosphere.

Fuck, yes!

Mike lets out a deep breath and turns to face his partner, Bernard. “Let’s go check.”

“Thanks, guys,” Grant returns. “We wouldn’t ask you to do something like this if we didn’t think the situation was dire.”

“You need to stay here,” Mike reminds us. “You’re way out of your jurisdiction.”

“I’m here as her boyfriend, not as a cop,” I tell them. “I won’t move from this spot.”

My body vibrates with the need to dosomething, and I have never been so jacked up while feeling so useless at the same time. What I want to do is knock Matt’s door down, storm the house, and then kill him with my bare hands.

Instead, I’m stuck standing on the sidelines, pacing up and down the sidewalk while hoping the Vegas PD doesn’t fuck up again.

At least Mike and Bernard are going in on our word alone. That’s more than we would have gotten from someone who wasn’t connected to Grant.

Mike returns a few minutes later. “There’s no answer. I don’t think anyone is home.”

I walk over to Matt’s SUV and touch the hood, confirming what I already know. Basic police work that Mike either didn’t think of checking or didn’t want to be bothered with.

“They’re home,” I say. “The engine is still warm, and they aren’t out walking the dog they don’t have. You need to lay eyes on her and make sure she’s okay.”

I don’t add that’s what a welfare check is or punch him in the face, so I consider it an extreme display of willpower.

“Please,” I add, for good measure.

And then a scream pierces the silent night, muffled through the walls but still clear enough to propel Mike and Bernard into action. I start to follow them, but Grant grabs my arm and shakes his head.

“Wyatt, you can’t go in there,” Grant orders. “I can only imagine how you feel right now, but you can’t. You’ll blow the case to shit. Let our colleagues handle it.”

Fuck!

Our Vegas PD counterparts are standing on the porch knocking on the door again, which isn’t going to save Rebecca. They’re checking a box to say they came out, but they’re not doing any kind of due diligence.

Fuck it.

If having a job as a cop means that I need to stand here and let Rebecca die, then I don’t want a badge anymore.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I say grimly. “You can fire me, or I’ll resign if that’s what you need from me. But I’m going in. I can’t just stand here doing nothing while Matt kills Rebecca.”

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