I huff a laugh to myself as I close down the computer and put my last file in the tray of my desk. I’m not entirely on board with the dolphin thing, as in I would never have used that name—ever—for my life partner, but Grinder is difficult to resist. I would know, I spent long enough doing it. And Parker literally put me in a headlock and noogied my head when I tried to suggest something else.
“What you talkin’ about, Spenny? Dolphins are perfect and you know it. We can even get matching tattoos!”
Just thinking about either one of them makes me smile. I’m surprised at myself, because while Parker isn’t Grinder, she’s burrowed her way into being something pretty special. Not a best friend, exactly, not like Mac or even Kincaid, but something else entirely. Unexplainable is the only way to describe it right now.
“Holt, can I have a word?”
I look up to find Bryson glaring at me as he practically hangs on the door to the office.
“Sure, what’s up?” Three minutes to go.
“Did you see anyone hanging around back near the old rigs on your last shift?” He moves farther into the room and sinks into the sofa against the wall.
My stomach drops as my heart races a mile a minute and all I can picture is myself attached to a chain gang with no hopes of escape.
Pretending to think about it first, I frown a little.
“Er…no?”Sound more convincing!“If I’m honest,”—which I’m not—“I have no idea. It was a busy shift.” Not a lie. “I can’t even remember what I had for lunch. Besides, nobody goes out there anymore, do they?” Shrugging, I hope I’m being ambiguous enough to sell the untruth. “Why d’you ask?” Aaand breathe.
“Rig thirty-seven is missing and I thought I saw you but I must’ve been hallucinating.” He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his dark, assessing eyes trapping my gaze. The lead in my stomach gets heavier.
“Was I wearing my feather boa and clown shoes? I can’t remember the last time I needed to go out there, Bryson.” I hope my smile isn’t as tight as it feels. Two minutes. “Has anyone checked the cameras?” My fingers and toes are crossed that the club pulled through on their end.
“Yeah, but there’s a whole chunk of time missing. Like, one minute, the rig is still there, and the next, it’s gone. Vanished.” He spreads his fingers wide and mimics a firework with his hand, his glare fixed on me the whole time.
I’m going to prison.
“Oh, shit. Do we have any suspects?” I’m going to play dumb for as long as possible. Innocent until proven guilty and all that.
He ponders the question for a second, then shakes his head. “No.” The next part is said directly into my soul as his gaze holds mine. “I’m sure whoever it was will be found and prosecuted soon enough.” There’s a brief, uncomfortable pause before he sighs and stands. “Well,”—he glances at his watch—“looks like it’s time to clock out.” He walks toward the door and stops to look at me. “Catch ya later, Holt.” Then he leaves and all the tell-tale signs of fainting pummel into me at once. Shallow breaths, check. Blurry vision, check. Spinning room…check, check, check.
He saidcatch ya. Not see ya, not check ya out, not have a good night.Catch. Like he knew something.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Taking a few minutes to get my shit together, I place my hands on the desk and stand, my head bowed and my eyes closed. It’s fine.
The loud rumble of what I know for certain is a motorcycle sounds from the front of the building and pulls me from the downward spiral threatening to derail me. Now, my heart is pounding against my ribs for a whole other reason, but I need to tell him about what just happened.
After changing back into my civilian clothes, I grab my bag and head toward the exit when I see Salem sidling up to me.
“Hey, did Bryson ask you about that missing rig?” I ask Salem, who bounces alongside me with way more pep than is reasonable after a twenty-four hour shift.
“Nope.” Her answer has my stomach dropping. So, he’s isolated me in his questioning. “Seems a bit strange for someone to steal one of those things. They’re practically antiques. No idea why we even keep them around.”
I shrug as though it’s no big deal. Any other response would likely give me away.
“Anyways, see you on Wednesday.” She shoulder checks me and heads toward the parking lot to get in her car that is more expensive than her salary affords. Perks of having a daddy that’ll pay for anything she wants for the privilege of a smile. And yes, I mean the sugar variety of daddy, not the biological kind.
“See ya.” The weight of the world falls heavy around me, but as I sigh and look up, catching the smiling faces of both Grinder and Parker, my problems slip away.
“Spenny!” Parker yells, waving her hands around as they wait at the entrance of the parking lot.
I have no clue what’s happening when she and Grinder turn to each other before setting their eyes on me. Then they both run, at what feels like full speed, toward me.
“Come on, slow-poke.” Parker giggles.
“Your ass is fine, Stabby, but I can’t stare at it anymore.” He quickly passes her and practically tackles me, fully expecting me to catch him, but this all happens faster than I can process.