‘Taking ages to answer,’ said Mickey.
‘Maybe she’s got a hot date.’ Anni was sitting on the desk once more, swinging her legs.
Mickey waited. ‘Not going to voicemail, either. Strange.’
‘Not really. It is Sunday night. Easter Sunday. Maybe she’s at home. Not everyone’s like us. Some people have social lives.’
The phone was answered. Mickey held up a hand, indicating this to Anni.
‘Hi, Jessie?’
‘Oh, so it’s Jessie now, is it?’ Anni was speaking just loud enough to be heard on the other end.
Mickey waved his hand at her, trying to shush her. ‘Mickey Philips here. I’m just—’
He stopped dead. The voice on the other end of the phone spoke.
‘You’re too late, Mickey Philips. Whoever you are. Much too late … ’
The line went dead.
Anni had a wisecrack planned. The expression on Mickey’s face froze it in her mouth.
‘Shit,’ he said. ‘We’ve got trouble.’