that he actually lived at it.
Yeah, and while you’re at it, you’d better have a good cover story for why you’ve lost your gun, and hope that they’re willing to loan you one.
I groaned at the very thought, then froze as I caught sight of something resting on my pillow while reaching to turn out my light.
Something that looked very much like my S&W .40.
“Holy shit,” I muttered as I approached the gun. It was sitting, along with a small bouquet of white roses, on top of a card the color of yellow custard. As I carefully lifted the gun out of the way, I saw that the center of the stationary was stamped with a relief of the Tremaine Enterprise logo.
My fingers itched to open it, but before I did that, I sat down and took the gun apart, making sure that it hadn’t been tampered with in any way. It seemed fine, all parts accounted for, not even a single round missing from the magazine. So I put it back together, carefully returned it to my hip holster, and then reached for the card.
Welcome to Salem, the card read. Stay out of my business, stay out of my club, and if you’re lucky, you just might stay alive.
CHAPTER 7
I ’m not even remotely ashamed to admit that I spent an hour inspecting every nook and cranny of my apartment before going to bed, or that I jumped and twitched at every creak and whisper of wind I heard for another hour as I lay in bed trying to sleep. You would too, if someone had broken into your place and left a gun and a note on your bed without a single trace of other evidence to indicate that they’d been there.
It took me two more cups of coffee than usual to muster up the energy to walk into the precinct without a cloud of grumpiness hanging over my head, and even then, it was a near thing. But I smiled and greeted everyone I met, then braced myself for a scolding from my partner or the Captain for ditching him in the middle of an arrest.
Strangely, I got no complaints from either man. I wondered if someone upstairs was looking out for me…or if Maddock’s orders for his guard to “take care of it” had anything to do with the distinct lack of consequences.
Unsettled, I went to knock on Captain Randall’s door. Maybe I could coax some answers out of him that would help me determine whether he’d been bribed or magicked in any way.
“What is it, Chandler?” the Captain asked after he’d given me permission to enter. Annoyance rang clear in his tone as he looked up from the report he was reading. “I don’t have time to hold your hand today.”
It took great effort not to react to the barb. “I’m not here for hand-holding,” I said, folding my hands behind my back as I came to stand in front of his desk. “I just came to check in on that drug-dealing case that Detective Baxter and I caught yesterday.”
Captain Randall frowned. “The perpetrator was sent to booking last night and is currently awaiting arraignment. You don’t need to concern yourself further.”
I straightened my shoulders. “I appreciate that, Captain, but after the amount of time Detective Baxter and I put into the case, I’d like to know what happened. We hadn’t even had a chance to question Remy Vox, so I don’t have a lot to—”
“This sounds a lot like hand-holding, Chandler,” Captain Randall interrupted. “And I’m not interested in hand-holding. If you want to know about the particulars, look it up in the database.”
“I tried,” I said as calmly as I could. “But the case file was locked.”
Captain Randall arched an eyebrow. “Is that so? Well, then, I imagine that means it’s above your clearance level.”
Heat flushed my cheeks, and my hands tightened into fists behind my back. The bastard was hiding something; I just knew it. His expression was hard as ever, but there was just the slightest hint of smugness in his eyes. I didn’t know why, but Captain Randall was playing with me. And it was really pissing me off.
“I realize that, Captain,” I said tightly.
Yeah, and while you’re at it, you’d better have a good cover story for why you’ve lost your gun, and hope that they’re willing to loan you one.
I groaned at the very thought, then froze as I caught sight of something resting on my pillow while reaching to turn out my light.
Something that looked very much like my S&W .40.
“Holy shit,” I muttered as I approached the gun. It was sitting, along with a small bouquet of white roses, on top of a card the color of yellow custard. As I carefully lifted the gun out of the way, I saw that the center of the stationary was stamped with a relief of the Tremaine Enterprise logo.
My fingers itched to open it, but before I did that, I sat down and took the gun apart, making sure that it hadn’t been tampered with in any way. It seemed fine, all parts accounted for, not even a single round missing from the magazine. So I put it back together, carefully returned it to my hip holster, and then reached for the card.
Welcome to Salem, the card read. Stay out of my business, stay out of my club, and if you’re lucky, you just might stay alive.
CHAPTER 7
I ’m not even remotely ashamed to admit that I spent an hour inspecting every nook and cranny of my apartment before going to bed, or that I jumped and twitched at every creak and whisper of wind I heard for another hour as I lay in bed trying to sleep. You would too, if someone had broken into your place and left a gun and a note on your bed without a single trace of other evidence to indicate that they’d been there.
It took me two more cups of coffee than usual to muster up the energy to walk into the precinct without a cloud of grumpiness hanging over my head, and even then, it was a near thing. But I smiled and greeted everyone I met, then braced myself for a scolding from my partner or the Captain for ditching him in the middle of an arrest.
Strangely, I got no complaints from either man. I wondered if someone upstairs was looking out for me…or if Maddock’s orders for his guard to “take care of it” had anything to do with the distinct lack of consequences.
Unsettled, I went to knock on Captain Randall’s door. Maybe I could coax some answers out of him that would help me determine whether he’d been bribed or magicked in any way.
“What is it, Chandler?” the Captain asked after he’d given me permission to enter. Annoyance rang clear in his tone as he looked up from the report he was reading. “I don’t have time to hold your hand today.”
It took great effort not to react to the barb. “I’m not here for hand-holding,” I said, folding my hands behind my back as I came to stand in front of his desk. “I just came to check in on that drug-dealing case that Detective Baxter and I caught yesterday.”
Captain Randall frowned. “The perpetrator was sent to booking last night and is currently awaiting arraignment. You don’t need to concern yourself further.”
I straightened my shoulders. “I appreciate that, Captain, but after the amount of time Detective Baxter and I put into the case, I’d like to know what happened. We hadn’t even had a chance to question Remy Vox, so I don’t have a lot to—”
“This sounds a lot like hand-holding, Chandler,” Captain Randall interrupted. “And I’m not interested in hand-holding. If you want to know about the particulars, look it up in the database.”
“I tried,” I said as calmly as I could. “But the case file was locked.”
Captain Randall arched an eyebrow. “Is that so? Well, then, I imagine that means it’s above your clearance level.”
Heat flushed my cheeks, and my hands tightened into fists behind my back. The bastard was hiding something; I just knew it. His expression was hard as ever, but there was just the slightest hint of smugness in his eyes. I didn’t know why, but Captain Randall was playing with me. And it was really pissing me off.
“I realize that, Captain,” I said tightly.
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