The police station buzzed with activity as officers zipped back and forth, taking care of business. People sat with hands cuffed behind their backs, nervously turning their heads toward every sound or movement, waiting to find out what would happen to them.
Mason, on the other hand, sat tapping his heel against the hard marble floor.
With nobody else to turn to, he’d tried Bill at home. Bill’s wife, Christine, answered the door and invited him to wait. But he couldn’t just sit around. Evie was gone, and it was his fault. So he came here to the station, looking for help.
It took some time before Bill exited an elevator Mason had used plenty during his time with the SFPD. He crossed the hall while looking over his shoulder, taking long strides toward him. “What are you doing here?”
“I had no choice. It’s… it’s Evie.”
“What happened?”
“She’s gone, Bill. I need to make a statement and have your officers look for her.”
Bill’s expression changed from frustration to concern. He glanced toward the front desk and raised a hand to the officer on reception duty. “Come with me,” he said, grabbing Mason’s elbow.
They hustled through the station, keeping to the wall so as not to attract too much attention. They came out of the fire exit and into a caged-off yard, where they were surrounded by dumpsters and the sickly sweet smell of rotting food.
“What happened?” Bill asked, leaning against the door to keep it closed.
“It’s a long story.”
“I’m listening.”
Mason explained what had happened an hour ago, and it all seemed to come out in one long, desperate breath. When his story arrived back in the present, he turned and kicked the chain-link fence. “I’m a fucking idiot.”
Bill sighed and stepped away from the door. “Look, this is going to sound stupid, but you can’t make the statement. If this Lady Luck woman drops the bomb, what do you think will happen to Evie? You need to stay well away.”
That was enough to turn Mason’s head. “Are you fucking nuts? Some girl…” He looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Some girl knows we buried Wendell. She’s teasing it to your colleagues. Hell, if you hadn’t taken that photo from the crime scene, we might both be in jail right now.”
“Better than being dead though, huh?”
Mason shoved him. “This isn’t a fucking game, Bill. Evie’s out there somewhere, and she needs our help.” It wasn’t until he said it aloud that he realized she might not still be out there at all. She could have been severely hurt by now. She could be dead, the next victim to turn up with a message.
“Don’t think for a second I don’t want to help her!” Bill stood up straight, his chin high. “She’s like a sister to me, too, in case you’d forgotten. But you need to think this through. If we report her missing and she comes to your door the next day, you’ll be locked up for the rest of your life. And for what?”
“It’s worth it.”
“Is it though? Think about it. I’m serious. Go home, lie down, and think about where you want to be next week. Consider Amy having to grow up without a father. Unless you count that prick Joshua as a decent role model.”
Mason was wired. His head felt ready to burst. If he could only take back what had happened, everything would be so much simpler. He exhaled slowly. “I suppose you’re right. Meantime, can you check out Marcy Larkin?”
“I’d need an excuse. It would have to be relevant to my research of you.”
“Think of something.” Mason climbed to the top of the fence and swung over it.
“And you might want to stay away from here in future,” Bill said, opening the door. “Next time I see you, I’m going to have to arrest you. Captain’s orders.”