TWENTY-FOUR

LAURIE PUT HER head on her folded arms on the table. “It’s all related.”

Mark Colson wasn’t listening to her. He was a good lieutenant, just like he’d been a good street cop, but he was known for his bluster, and his bluster got louder the more uncertain he was. When they’d stopped dating because Laurie had been interested in Omid, he’d blustered so hard he’d broken a blood vessel in his eye. Now his voice was raised. “We can’t know that, Laurie! Not yet.”

Laurie stole a peek at Frank Shepherd. “Frank, you see this, right? It’s obvious.”

Frank—the scaredy-cat—shrugged.

She sat up straight. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could get back to Jojo.

Fuck Ramsay. He’d killed himself like a coward, but what if he knew something—what if he knew everything?

At the same time, her head throbbed, her throat full of salt. Ramsay had been her friend. Once, long ago, they’d gotten bombed in La Precia at eight in the morning after Laurie’s first suicide-by-hanging call. He’d just sat there with her, letting her cry, buying her more margaritas, and then driving her home.

“Laurie?”

When she was done giving her statement, she and Jojo could go right home and stay there. Preferably forever. “Harper Cunningham was sleeping with Ramsay. Harper Cunningham is missing, and Ramsay is dead. Harper was with my daughter before she was 261’d at a house in which a man was killed. Jesus, you guys. These four things are related.” She hated herself for not being able to say “raped.” But she just couldn’t, not again.

“I know this is hard, Laurie. Especially with Omid in the hospital. It’s emotional.” Colson patted her hand.

She wanted to slap him with it. Colson wasn’t stupid, so why this stupid routine? Was it some cop-protecting-cop bullshit? If only Omid were here—wheels would be moving so much faster. “Are we done?”

Shepherd flipped the pages of his notebook. “Yeah. That’s about it.” He leaned back as if he were getting ready to chat about baseball. “So tell us how Omid is. Someone said he’s got to stay in there another couple of days? And how’s Jojo holding up? It’s been a hell of a twenty-four hours, hasn’t it?”

Laurie didn’t answer. She stood and left the room, slamming the door behind her. They’d talk shit about her in T-minus three seconds, and she didn’t care.

“Hey,” she said to Maria Bagley, who was at the traffic desk. “You seen Jojo?”

“Today?”

Genius. “Never mind.”

The break room held only a couple of uniforms eating burritos. It smelled like carne asada, and Laurie felt her stomach rumble. “Have you seen Jojo?”

Connors nodded. “She was headed down to dispatch, I think.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, Laurie!” Will Yarwood again, strutting his short chicken walk as he came out of the firing range door. “How’s she doing?”

Laurie ignored him completely. She took the steps down two at a time, so fast her feet were blurred when she looked down. It was comforting, that every cop in town knew Jojo. It was nice knowing that Jojo couldn’t get up to much in San Bernal without Laurie and Omid hearing about it. (Though they hadn’t heard about Steiner catching her smoking weed—Laurie would talk to him about that.)

Laurie had seriously thought their biggest problem would be helping Jojo decide where to go to college.

And now? She went around the corner, dodging Captain Marbella’s ficus plant. Now her daughter’s accused rapist, a man who might be a murderer, was sitting upstairs in the exact cell the girls had been in.

And where the hell was Harper?

She punched in the code to enter dispatch.

Inside the ComCen, Jojo was sitting at an empty terminal, pecking at her cell. Shonda was on the phone, Maury was talking on the police radio, so only Charity was free to gawk at Laurie’s entrance.

Jojo was who mattered. “Hey, cookie.” God, she hadn’t called her daughter that for ten years. She’d almost forgotten the endearment entirely. “Want to go home?”

Jojo nodded without looking up.

Laurie felt tears start at the back of her throat as the eyes of her co-workers fixed on her, looking at her like she was someone else, someone they didn’t recognize or know how to handle. That was rich. Dispatchers always knew how to handle everything.

But they didn’t know how to handle this.

Maury moved first. He rose. “Laurie.”

She put her hands out. “Don’t hug me.” If he did, she’d crack. “Thanks for watching her.”

Jojo stalked out, no doubt offended by the idea that anyone at all had been watching her like a kid. The door shut behind her.

“Did she say anything to you? About Harper or anything?”

Maury shook his head. “We told her she didn’t have to talk. You okay?”

I can’t do this by myself. I need Omid.

Laurie folded her lips tight and shook her head.