Wrong Place, Right Time - Elle Casey Page 0,75

and text the first person I think of who can save me. Dev. I don’t stop to question why it’s him who comes to mind and not the actual police, who are supposed to be acting as our backup.

Me: Help! We’re busted! Someone’s here!

His answer comes immediately.

Dev: Can you get out without being seen? Do they have weapons?

Me: I don’t know!

Dev: Call 911. Give them as much detail as you can. Hide. I’m on my way.

I dial 911, holding the phone to my ear and covering my mouth so that I can muffle my voice as much as possible. I hear nothing in the office from Lucky, and I have no idea where the couple has gone, but they can’t be far.

The dispatcher at the police department picks up my call. “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

I whisper as softly as I can and still be heard. “Hi. I’m with Bourbon Street Boys Security, and we’re at the Blue Marine administrative offices doing some night work, and there’s been a break-in. Can you send someone?”

“Ma’am, we have already received a call from your location, and officers are just outside the rear door. Can you tell us if there are any weapons involved?”

Relief flows through me. Of course Lucky called them. It’s probably what I should’ve done in the first place.

“I’m not sure. There are two people who look to be in their early twenties, maybe, or late teens. One of them is not familiar with this office, but the other one is; however, he doesn’t work here.”

“Do you recognize them? How do you know this information?”

“I overheard their conversation. I don’t know what they’re here for, but the male said something about showing the girl something. He’s very big. I didn’t see any weapons, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any.”

“Thank you. Are you in a secure location?”

“Yes. I’m hiding under a desk in the office on the left, farthest from the back door.” I’m actually very proud of myself that I remembered my location and was able to pinpoint it so accurately. I feel kind of secret-agent-ish. Now that the police are right outside, my fears have taken a backseat to my involvement in this little scenario. It’s not nearly as awful as it was two minutes ago. Adrenaline is making me tremble all over, though. I’m sweating too. Fun on a Wednesday night!

“Copy that,” the dispatcher says. “Please hold the line.”

My ear and cheek are sweating where the phone is pressed up against my face. I can smell my breath, and it ain’t pretty. But I’m not moving, no matter what. I’ll stay here until I cramp up and keel over. The only way I’m crawling out is if Lucky comes and tells me it’s all clear.

“Ma’am are you still on the line?” asks the operator.

“Yes. I’m here.”

“The officers are going to enter the location. Stay where you are. Do not get involved.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

The next thing I hear is a banging on the door and someone shouting. I’ve watched enough Criminal Minds episodes to know that they’re doing their knock and announce before entering. I hope they don’t break the door in. I don’t remember hearing those two people locking the door behind them.

The back door bangs open and a voice comes to my ears much clearer.

“This is the New Orleans Police Department! We are entering the building! If you are in this building, you are trespassing. Please come out with your hands up. Do not draw any weapons.” I hear little footsteps running and then the girl screaming.

A male voice comes next; I think it’s the tall intruder. “Hey! We’re not trespassers! My dad owns this place.”

I roll my eyes. Holy shit. What are the chances that the one night we decide to come work here, an owner’s son also decides to come out to the office to cop a feel with his girlfriend?

The lights go on and shine brightly into the office. I squeeze my knees against my chest. I don’t think Ozzie would want Lucky or me to show our presence here to these two kids. The file says that there are four owners of this business, and I have to believe that this kid is related to one of the owners who is not in the know about our operation. Mr. Jorgensen would’ve made sure to keep an eye on his kid on the night he knew we’d be coming here.

A police officer is in the middle of the hallway, speaking to the two