Headlines (Prime Time #3) - Ella Frank Page 0,22

getting out on bail yesterday? Can’t believe anyone would fork over cash to get his ass out of lockup.”

I rocked back in my chair to eye Nichols looking at his computer screen. It was Friday morning, and I was already thinking about making a second coffee as I twirled my pen through my fingers.

“Eh, you know it was his bigwig father. The Huntleys have more money than God. They aren’t about to let their precious little boy sit in our holding cell as a plaything for more than a couple hours. Honestly, I’m surprised they didn’t have him out sooner. What was that, forty-eight hours?”

“Yeah, not bad for a suspected rapist.”

“I hear you. From what I understand, the victim’s going to have a real hard time fighting this one. She’s from a lower-income family. They’ll probably end up settling.”

Nichols shook his head. “Kind of cynical, no?”

Yeah, I guess it was. But when you’d been on the job as long as I had, it came with the territory. “You know I’m right.”

Nichols slowly nodded and then rolled his chair around to face me. “So listen, captain didn’t want you to think he was checking up on you, since you passed your physical and all. But he wanted me to—”

“Do it for him?”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

I thought back to the foot chase the week before and threw my pen on the desk. “Is this about Martinelli? ’Cause, in all fairness, it was hot as fuck that day.”

“I know. I was sweating it out in the car with you. And he’s not questioning your ability. I mean, you caught the fucker. He just wants to make sure you’re comfortable out there.”

“And that you are too, being my partner.”

Nichols shrugged. “I ain’t worried about that. I just don’t want to watch you bleed out a second time, if you catch my drift.”

“Yeah, I got it. And I feel fine. I actually stepped up my exercise routine after that motherfucker dared me to a running match. I won’t be caught winded again, don’t you worry.”

“Again,” Nichols said, holding his palms up. “I wasn’t worried.”

“Uh huh.” I was about to ask him if he wanted a coffee when my cell vibrated on the desk. I sat forward to see who it was texting me, and when I saw Bailey’s name flashing on my screen, I quickly scooped it up and got to my feet. “Uh, hey? You want a coffee? I’m going to go make some.”

“Yeah, sure, I could go another cup.” Nichols held out his World’s Best Dad mug. I grabbed up mine and then headed to the break room.

Once I was inside, I loaded up the coffee maker with a new filter and some ground coffee, then I added the water and hit go, before I leaned back against the counter and finally opened Bailey’s message.

As ridiculous as it was, my hand shook. I was nervous. Nervous to read a goddamn message from my younger brother.

Bailey: Hi. Henri said you want to talk to me.

It wasn’t exactly the Hey, I’ve missed you. We really should talk I’d been expecting, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. And at least it was progress. He was reaching out to us.

Yeah. Is there a time and place that suits you? We could come there tomorrow, like usual.

I hit send and stared at the phone as though it were going to blow up in my hand. My stomach was churning, a weird mix of nerves and guilt as the three little dots appeared on my screen. A couple seconds later, Bailey’s next message came through with the force of a sucker punch to my already aching gut.

Bailey: Tomorrow is fine. I don’t care what time. Just you. Not Xander.

Okay…that didn’t sound like progress. This was not good, not good at all.

Bay, I think the three of us should all sit down. Don’t you?

I already knew what his answer would be. At least, I thought I did, until he replied: No, I don’t. You can come by whenever. I have nothing to say to Xander.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why was Bailey being so damn stubborn about this?

Well, it looked like I was going to have to talk some sense into him. He’d given me a “come to Jesus” talk when I’d been acting like an ass. So maybe it was time to return the favor. To remind him how much Xander meant to him.

Fine. I’ll be there tomorrow around noon.

Bailey: Fine. Tomorrow.

That was it. That was all he wrote.