explosion (jay halstead / one chicago)

chapter 9

jay's pov

"Got it." Lindsey pinned a picture to the whiteboard in the middle of the room. "This is the owner of the black SUV, Carla Roberts, 62, no priors. This is John Roberts, 59, her brother. He owns a pub within the radius we drew from the attacks. His finances don't look good to say the least." She put up another picture right next to that of the woman. "And lastly, this is Jim Roberts, 32, priors for possession and armed robbery. He was also suspected for homicide but wasn't charged. He's John's son." She placed the last picture right below the first two.

"Alright, we had John on the list of possible targets because his pub is within the radius. But now that Carla's car was seen at the fire today, the Roberts family are our lead suspects." Voight nodded in approval at the team's work.

"You're saying John's pub isn't going well, so he gets his criminal son Jim to take his aunt Carla's car and attack other pubs in the area? To scare their owners and eventually make them close?" Adam asked. "That's fucked up, man."

"People have killed for less," Erin retorted.

"Alright." Voight faced everyone in turn. "Let patrol observe both John and Jim, we don't make a move unless they're doing something suspicious. I want the two of them to feel safe until we have them nailed. Kevin, Adam, find out if we can link the car to the other attacks. Erin, Jay, check the Roberts' phones. I want to know exactly where they've been in the past few days."

Everyone nodded and started working on their tasks. Once we were done, we decided to call it a day. It was getting late and we had patrol following every move of the Roberts, so there was no need to rush things tonight.

I was reluctant to accompany the others to the re-opening at Molly's since Liz still hadn't called or texted me back. I wanted to talk to her more than anything, but I didn't want to put her under pressure, thus I didn't know if showing up there was the best idea.

However, my friends wouldn't let me go home. Instead, I ended up sitting at the bar at Molly's, slowly emptying one beer after the other, every now and then glancing over at the table where Liz was sitting with her colleagues. It was past midnight already and most of the guests, including everyone I had been with, had left, many because they had to work in the morning.

"Why don't you go home and get some rest," Herrmann suggested. "I'm sure she'll talk to you eventually, but I don't think you're doing yourself a favour by watching her like a heartbroken teenager all night."

I looked up at the bartender. He gave me a sympathetic smile.

"I'm not," I protested. And I didn't really want to leave either.

"Yo, Herrmann," Sylvie interrupted our conversation. "You too, Halstead. Both of you actually."

I could tell she had had some drinks, but she was covering it well.

"I got an appointment in the morning, so I really have to go now. Liz is wasted, but she won't let me take her home yet, or any time soon for that matter. Can you guys make sure she's okay and gets back safe?"

Hermann and I agreed. Honestly, what else should we do? It made my heart ache hearing that Liz was getting drunk. I knew I wasn't any better, I had already had quite some drinks because that made me ease up and helped me cope. But still – this wasn't what I wanted for her. I was sure it was because of what happened yesterday, which meant I was to blame. I had no idea what exactly made her push me away and completely freak out last night but to say I was worried was an understatement. I just wanted to have her tell me what was going on, to hug her and never let go. Anything basically so I could try and make it right.