School of Fish (Fish Out of Water #6) - Amy Lane Page 0,43
than I’ve got in a fish bowl.”
Jackson had to work not to smile. As easily as he’d taken out Mayer, he thought he could sort of like this guy.
“Watch out for him,” Jackson said, feeling a slight surge of protectiveness. “All animals get mean when they’re cornered.”
“We’ll keep Mayer out of gen pop until CDCR is done with him,” Codromac agreed, and the lines at the corner of his mouth deepened. “That kid too.” This time he pinned Herrera with an icy gaze that belied his assertion of being a “dumb bohunk” who knew nothing about the affairs of lawyers. “Don’t know what your office was thinking. That there’s a fucking travesty.”
Herrera nodded. “Yessir. Well, mistakes were made.”
Codromac snorted. “Your superiors were taking advantage of a rookie is more like it. Give ’em hell, girl. You all go fix the world. I’m going to go read one of the broken bits the riot act, and let’s see if we can keep that kid alive.”
And with that, the head officer at the county jail turned around and stumped away, average man, average height, a great deal more character than was first apparent riding his average shoulders.
“I like that guy,” Jackson mused and then frowned at Ellery, who was holding the ice pack gingerly to his jaw. “Let’s get to the car, Counselor—there’s ibuprofen in the glove box.”
Herrera frowned at them, the weariness Jackson had seen while they were waiting for Ellery’s return weighing down heavier on her than ever.
“He didn’t have us file an incident report,” she said unhappily. “We should be up to our eyeballs in paperwork.”
“A thing I plan to investigate tonight,” Ellery told her, probing at his jaw. Jackson resisted the urge to knock his hand away. Not here. Not now. “But Jackson and I have a stop we should make.” Ellery met his eyes. “Is he out of surgery yet?”
Jackson reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It had buzzed while he’d been talking to Tage, but the middle of the county jail wasn’t where you lost concentration.
“Yeah,” he said. “Henry says he just got out about ten minutes ago. They’re waiting for him to come out of the anesthesia.” Jackson smiled a little. “He says the waiting room is full, but that Dave and Alex appreciated the food.”
Ellery raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Good.”
As though remembering what had happened to Kryzynski, Herrera’s features hardened into fury. “Oh for fuck’s sake. We have got to get that kid out of jail.”
“And his family into protective custody,” Ellery agreed. “And hopefully Officer Codromac can keep him alive until that happens.”
She shook her head. “God. Just… this situation isn’t going to unfuck itself, but if we’re the good guys, we need some help!”
“We’re doing the best we can,” Ellery said mildly, following that up with a wince.
“C’mon, Mad Max,” Jackson said, tapping his elbow to get him to move. “Ibuprofen. Now.”
“You’re awfully bossy,” Ellery muttered. “You need to teach me to hit back.”
“First things first,” Jackson said, jerking his chin toward the car, which he’d seen parked in a rare and precious spot along the curb. “I need to teach you to duck.”
“I’ll call you tonight, Ellery,” Herrera called after them, and Jackson paused long enough to look back.
“Watch yourself,” he said, swallowing. “This sitch—it’s apparently open season on lawyers, and I don’t think they care which side of the bar they’re on.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Thanks. We’ve got our own PIs. I’ll tap someone when I get back to the office.”
“Call them now,” Jackson urged. “I’m not shitting around. Kryzynski got stabbed when we were coming back from lunch. This bullshit doesn’t make a formal announcement.”
She gave a hard nod and pulled out her phone. “I hear you,” she said. “On it.”
Still, Jackson kept an eye on her as he helped Ellery into Ellery’s beloved silver Lexus and didn’t draw a deep breath until she was in her own little red sport coupe and it was pulling away from the curb.
He’d started the air-conditioning in the meantime, and he reached into the space in the center console and pulled out the jumbo-sized bottle of ibuprofen and one of the waters they kept stashed there.
And a small packet of crackers that Ellery kept because he liked to think Jackson wouldn’t remember to eat if he wasn’t nannying Jackson within an inch of his life.
“Here you go, Counselor,” Jackson soothed, handing over the stash. “You know the drill.”
Ellery washed down the ibuprofen without comment and followed it up with