School of Fish (Fish Out of Water #6) - Amy Lane Page 0,18

mouth parted, and he nodded slightly. “But now you can fix the problem because you’re willing to see the problem.”

“Yeah,” Kryzynski said. He took another bite. “Jackson, finish your food, and then it’s your turn.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Ellery threw too much in the bowl. I’ll finish what I finish. But about my file….”

He opened it up and grimaced. “Okay, first of all, it’s a seventeen-year-old kid being tried as an adult.”

Everybody winced. “For what?” Henry asked.

“Murder,” Jackson said. “But it’s so odd. The police report here… it looks on point, but we’ll have to do some interviews again. Tage Dobrevk, young man from a good family, Russian….” He frowned. “Wait. I know this kid. That’s weird.”

Ellery looked at him. “You know this kid?”

“Yeah. That new crop of ex-cons at the duplex. One of them is his cousin. I met Tage two weeks ago when Sascha got out of jail. He was there with his parents and brother and sister, helping Sascha move in, talking about how Sascha had to work really hard to go straight. I remember this kid.” He peered at the police report closer, thirsty for the details.

“Okay. This is… this is weird. They found Tage in an apartment laundry room, unconscious, with a dead guy next to him. They were both covered with the dead guy’s blood. He’d been knifed pretty savagely and had bled out in minutes. Tage said he had no idea what this guy was doing in the room, and the police were inclined to believe him, but then….”

He kept reading, his stomach knotting up like crazy.

“But what?” Ellery asked, nudging him.

“But then his parents entered the room, and the cop says the kid looked at his father and started to cry, and then he wouldn’t say anything else. Not in his own defense, not to explain, nothing. They put him in with—oh God. Ellery—he’s in gen pop. We’ve got to get him out!”

Jackson stood up before he even knew he was going to and slid out of the booth. “This kid is in general population. Ellery. He’s been there since last night. We’ve got to… you’ve got to rescue this kid. He’s maybe five seven, one twenty sopping wet. This kid’s gonna get hammered. Oh my God!”

“Jackson, sit,” Ellery said, taking the file from him. “Sit. I can go to the jail and visit him after lunch. Nobody’s going to let me in now, so just cool your jets.”

Jackson’s knees got a little wobbly as he sank into the booth, his chest filled with retroactive panic. That kid—that sweet kid who had played with his brother and sister, who had worked hard at boosting his cousin’s spirits—he was in jail?

They had to fix it. They just had to.

“Okay,” Ellery said, and he slid his hand, warm and firm, onto Jackson’s thigh. “So more about the case. Who was the dead kid?”

Jackson took a breath. Yes, this was important, and as Ellery pointed out to him often enough, he was no good to anybody if he ran off half-cocked.

“Uhm, Cosgrove. James Cosgrove. Caucasian, just turned eighteen, goes by—”

“No Neck,” Ellery said, staring at Jackson. “His name is No Neck. What school does Tage go to?”

“Capitol Valley,” Jackson said, and Ellery nodded grimly. “Same school?”

“No Neck was the guy hosting the party Ty got busted at.”

“Hunh,” Jackson said, brain working overtime.

“What is that sound?” Henry asked. “I hate that sound!”

“You get used to it,” Ellery told him blandly.

Jackson ignored them. He looked at Henry. “Junior, you and me got some explaining to do.”

“I am with you, brother,” Henry said. “Now eat your goddamned noodles, so we can go get that other file and K-Ski here can stop having a conniption. God, you guys—all about the fucking drama.”

Jade took the last bite of her noodles and smiled. “Aren’t they, though? Better than popcorn and a movie.”

THEY HAD just finished lunch and pushed their chairs in, with a plan to go to the office so Ellery could make some calls and make an appointment to interview his new client, Tage Dobrevk, when Jackson, Henry, Jade, and Ellery all got a text from Galen at the same time.

Someone is attempting to break into our office. So far no luck, but hurry.

“K-Ski,” Jackson said as they all bolted from the restaurant, “do you have a light and a siren in your unmarked?”

“Get in,” Kryzynski told him as Henry ran to the Town Car, Jade and Ellery on his heels.

The unit—an unmarked black SUV—made good time weaving in and