(Lucy's POV)
"How is it before eight in the morning and I'm so god damned exhausted?"
Sam, who had been hovering over me all morning, held my elbow as I climbed into his truck. I sent him a smile full of gratitude. My body ached, reminding me with each movement that I had fought a man twice my size this morning.
He leaned across me, pulling on the seatbelt and as it snapped he brushed his lips across mine, laughing. "The day hasn't even started yet."
At my groan, his chuckle deepened. I sighed as he closed the door and made his way around to the driver's side.
"I know what will help." I turned my body to watch him, he was scrolling through his phone and nodded as he clicked a button and the lyrics to, wake me up before you go go, blared through the car.
I snickered. "Fitting." His answering grin did strange things to my heart, as he turned it up and then pulled out of the driveway.
Somehow by the time we got to the station, he had managed to lift my mood. However as we exited the truck, I noticed his cheer seemed to deflate. "What are the chances that my dad has come to his senses between yesterday and today?" His whispered voice filled my ear.
I let my raised eyebrows say it all. As we walked in, I was impressed. The station setup was better than many small towns I'd been in. It had multiple work spaces, all overseen by the Chiefs office in the very back, which was next to a large conference room.
All of the offices were surrounded entirely by glass, allowing for a full view of all the work taking place, or not taking place around us. As we made our way to the secretary in front of Chief Taylor's office, I mentally rolled my eyes at the tableau that I could see inside.
The secretary had the decency to blush. "Hello, Ms. Baylor, Sam. The Chief asked me to let you know he's in an important meeting but will be with you as soon as he's able."
Meanwhile, we could clearly see through the glass of his office that he was having a morning coffee break with a couple of other gentlemen. One in uniform, one in plain clothes.
"It's the local Minister, Mel and my dad's best golf buddy, Lieutenant Hank Naymond." Sam mumbled the facts, no doubt as annoyed as I was.
What a douche.
Maybe, if I hadn't already been attacked this morning, my mood would have been calmer. I could have been more understanding about the fact that I was setting his world topsy-turvy.
But right now, I was just pissed at the blatant disrespect for our time and energy.
Sam's thinking must have aligned with my own. "See, sometimes I wonder if he's actually my father. If it was me. I would be doing everything in my power to prove myself. To show you and everyone else that I was giving my all for this case. Probably because I'm a keener, who refuses to accept defeat."
I nodded my agreement, shifting my butt and trying to ease my sore muscles in this sorry excuse of a waiting chair. Each moment in the hard plastic, served to push my fury closer and closer to the surface. Only to be aggravated further by the boisterous laughter happening on the other side of the Chief's transparent wall.
Degrading piece of shit.
I glanced at my watch for the fifth time. Acknowledging the fact that although we hadn't actually been sitting long, each wasted moment felt like an eternity.
I wasn't willing to wait any longer. "I think I've seen enough, you?"
Sam's face lit up with delight and the tap, tap, tap of his leg eased as he stood and reached out a hand to help me up. Pulling me just a shade closer than what would be deemed professional.
Yet, not close enough.
I sighed with regret as I took a step back, stiffening my spine and moving towards the Chief's door only to stop at the sound of footsteps. "Lucy, Sam."
"Hey, Uncle Jet." Jet took us both in, standing outside the office and shook his head.
"Please tell me he's not peacocking?" We both laughed as his uncle shook his head at the secretary. "Really, Belinda. You let him do this?"
She shook her head and shrugged, obviously having no control.
Jet's eyes took on a serious tone. "Sorry, after yesterday, I thought I had convinced him that we shouldn't need anyone to take over. That we should be working this case."
He sighed. "I'd imagine Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee in there got to him. Let me get you in there."
He moved to knock but his hand slowed as we were interrupted by the ringing of my phone. My eyes cut to the Halifax Nova Scotia heading and number flashing on my phone and then made contact with Sam's. "This'll be about Luke Harrington. I'm going to take it outside."
I turned but then looked back at Jet, "Looks like they're saved by the bell, for the moment anyway."
I hit the green button to answer. "You've reached Lucy Baylor. Hold for a moment please." I touched the silencing button, to mute our conversation and asked Sam, "Do you have my description of the attackers this morning?"
Sam pulled out his little notebook, tapping it. "All in here."
"Perfect." I pointed at him. "Why don't you go talk to the officer on duty and see if my descriptions match anything that they might know. We'll give your dad a little more time, while we dig around."
I stopped in front of Jet to murmur a quick, "Thank you anyway", before making my way out into the sunlight, ready to connect with the East Coast.
I unmuted before apologising, "Sorry about the wait."
A slightly raspy, but undoubtedly female voice responded. "No problem. Good morning, this is Sergeant Rihanna Jenkins, returning your call?"
"Thanks for getting back to me. My name's Lucy Baylor and I work for a special crimes task force outside of Toronto."
Rihanna laughed lightly, "Oh, I know. I looked up your name when I saw what you were asking for. I heard you have a possible match on the last piece of clothing seen by one of my missing persons?"
I pulled the phone away from my ear for a second and thanked the policing gods, up above. It appeared that I landed someone who knew what the fuck she was doing.
Wanting to show her the same efficiency she was showing me, I summed it up. "Could very well be a reach, because we're so far out, but it flagged that Luke Harrington was last seen, wearing a pair of white or air Jordan's, size 12." I could hear her hmmm and took it for a positive affirmation. I opened my mouth to explain further but paused as my eyes caught Sam and Jet walking out of the station together. "One second."
Sam handed me his truck keys. "Sylvie Lawson didn't show up for work this morning. Her business partner called it in, and said she felt something was off last night when they talked. We're going to head over now to check things out. We figured, I'd ride with Uncle Jet and I didn't want to leave you without a vehicle."
Shit.
"Will you message me when you've talked to them?"
He nodded, his hand giving my shoulder a squeeze and I took a breath as I watched them rush down the stairs and into the parking lot.
One thing at a time, Lucy.
I refocused on the conversation at hand. "Sorry about that. Okay so a couple nights ago, we were canvassing for a missing person here in Lake Ridge, a teenage girl. We found one Air Jordan, white, size twelve."
"Shit. I'm sorry about your girl. Look, I'll share whatever information I have." I could hear a deep sigh through the phone. "I know that we don't always find them but the ones we don't find, they never sit right and this one has hung over my head. I'd love some closure."
Not closure for his family, for her?
I couldn't ignore the lapse, it felt telling. "I can't help but notice you didn't mention that his family would want closure?"
Her speech sped up, trying to explain. "Him and his family were on the outs. We couldn't find any signs of foul play... I'm sure they would want closure, as well."
The similarities nagged at me. "Please share everything that you have and I'll keep you in the loop. I appreciate your time and effort, Officer Jenkins."
I hung up the phone and put it in the back pocket of my jeans. I aggressively rubbed at my arms, staring at the now empty parking spot and trying to soothe the goosebumps that were standing at attention.
What the fuck was going on here?