A Friend in the Dark - Gregory Ashe Page 0,83

of the noose. What about here?” He stabbed at a section of the map.

Ophelia moved forward, leaned close enough to see the phone’s screen, but was still mindful of Sam’s weapon. “Where—the zoo?”

“I’d like to lock you and Rufus in a room and come back in a month. See if you’ve gotten all those jokes out of your system.”

“Calm down, Hulk. Corona, I get it. But that’s an awful lot of doors to knock on. And it’s based on nothing but hunches and assumptions.”

“Let’s hear a better idea.”

But before Ophelia could answer, her phone started to ring. Instead of picking up the call, though, she frowned at Sam.

“Answer your phone,” Ophelia finally stated.

“I don’t have ‘Hey Macarena’ for my ringtone. Answer your own damn phone.”

Ophelia shook her head. “It’s not—” She looked at the evidence bag still in her hand. The screen was lit up with an incoming call. No name, only a number.

“Shit,” Sam said. And then, knowing how stupid it sounded, he said, “Well, answer it.”

“And compromise evidence?” Ophelia protested. “Like hell.”

“Through the damn bag,” Sam said. “Tap the screen.”

Ophelia swore, brought the phone close, and tapped Accept hard through the plastic bag. She didn’t speak, instead listened and waited.

“H-hello?”

Sam couldn’t help himself. “Rufus? Holy Christ, Rufus, is that you?”

“Oh my God, Sam! You found the phone,” Rufus said, sounding near tears. “I called it, didn’t I? It was in the fucking mailbox.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re amazing. Where are you? Are you ok?”

“I’ve been better,” Rufus said, voice carrying through the bag. “I’m in some sort of abandoned auto shop. I found a sign inside, hang on—Dino’s Body Repair. This phone isn’t mine. Oh fuck, it’s probably being traced.”

“Dino’s Body Repair. Ok. Are you safe? Can you get out?” Holstering the gun, Sam pointed at the door for Ophelia to lead him to her car.

“No,” Rufus replied. “I’m locked inside.”

Ophelia shoved the evidence bag into Sam’s hand, opened the door, and bolted down the stairs.

“I had to knock a guy out,” Rufus continued. “Pretty sure he was left to guard the place. Sam, I think I have a concussion. I keep seeing double.”

“Just keep talking,” Sam said, because, hell, what was he supposed to say? “We’re coming. We’re going to be there as soon as we can. Find someplace you can hide.” Something wild bubbled inside Sam, like laughter and a scream at the same time. “Channel that inner street rat.”

Rufus chuckled. “I would if it was only me and Bruno upstairs.”

“What? Who’s there? What’s going on?”

“The kids are—” Rufus’s voice abruptly cut off.

Sam shot a glance at Ophelia as they plunged into the chaos of the street. She pointed at the bag, where the phone’s screen had gone black.

The phone’s battery was dead.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Rufus had gone back into the storage room and lifted Bruno’s cell, which had been in his back pocket and not part of his initial pat down. Rufus hadn’t been certain who to call for help, but sure as hell not 911. What if Heckler intercepted? What if the brigade Rufus hoped would save his ass were the very people who wanted him dead? He didn’t have Sam’s number, hadn’t bothered to read Ophelia’s business card, but he’d memorized the burner number that’d been dumped into Jake’s CallSpy account. Sure, it was a longshot, but it’d worked. Sam had found the phone, and the relief Rufus had felt after hearing his voice quelled the panic that had been bubbling inside. When the call ended abruptly, Rufus tried the burner again, but it went immediately to voicemail and he suspected the battery had probably been teetering at zero. It was fine, though. Sam said he was coming, that he’d be there soon, so Rufus had to take it as gospel. Sam had enough information to find him and that was that.

Rufus returned to the kids afterward—and Juliana was right, they were just babies—and told them to stay in the room. Some of them hadn’t understood, but a few nodded and others whispered to their friends, relaying the promise Rufus had made them: you’re going to be ok. He left the door ajar for the kids and returned to the auto body shop below. He turned off Bruno’s phone and left it on a workbench nearby. Rufus didn’t actually know if the phone was tapped or being traced, but he wasn’t the sort to take unnecessary chances.

Next, he dragged a metal worktable toward the window near the ceiling, his head pulsating and pounding with every screech and