“The hell is going on?”
Pennington and Cervantes approached, pistols drawn and aimed at me. I didn’t know whether to retreat to the back of the apartment or throw my hands up in surrender.
“Step out here, Tanner,” Pennington said.
“Why don’t you point that thing somewhere else?” I said.
“Come out here, let us make sure you’re unarmed.”
I was in position to slam the door and make a break for the back of the house. They’d have to travel to the end of the block to get to the back alley. And then, they’d have to choose which end to run to. No car was fitting through that narrow lane. Then what?
If they wanted me, they’d find me. And that was the reality.
“Come on, Tanner,” Pennington said. “Let’s not make this any more difficult than it needs to be.”
“Just tell me what this is about,” I said.
“Can’t do it right here,” he said.
“Why the guns drawn?”
Neither man spoke.
By this point, a few people had gathered across the street. Before long it’d grow, someone would start filming with their damn phone, and I’d be on the news. And if that reached Philly, I’d never get my badge back. Chief Warren would choke on the hard-on he’d get knowing he could get rid of me once and for all.
“All right,” I said. “I’m coming out.” I crossed the threshold. Pennington put his pistol away and retrieved his cuffs. My legs and back stiffened. The door shut behind me.
“Turn around,” Pennington said.
“The hell?” I said.
“Do it,” Cervantes said, his body rigid, his aim steady.
“Christ, I’ll go peacefully.” A lie that wouldn’t work.
The cuffs dangled from Pennington’s fingers. “We just want to get in the car and ask you some questions.”
“About what?” I was out of options and didn’t think I could delay them any further. They weren’t going to reveal anything standing on the sidewalk, which was expected. Tell me I’m arrested and I’m gonna put up a hell of a fight. “Come on, Pennington. Level with me. What’s going on?”
Pennington backed up to the sedan, reached backward with his left hand and opened the rear passenger door. He never took his eyes off me. Didn’t he trust his partner to cover his ass?
“All right, Tanner.” Pennington tucked the handcuffs away. “Let’s do this your way. Okay? Climb in and we can talk.”
I bounced on the balls of my feet, looking left and right, ready to sprint. Their sedan blocked the path straight ahead. The closed door behind me made a dash through the apartment impossible. And the two detectives blocked a sidewalk escape. The crowd across the street expanded, spilling into the road as they jostled for position to see the out-of-towner taken down by their local guys.
Pennington remained in position holding the door open for me. He swept his hand in front of the opening. “Sooner we do this, the sooner you can get on your way back home.”
I stopped a foot away. Raised my voice. “Home? Philly? Just what in the hell is going on here?”
Pennington glanced over his shoulder at the crowd across the street. A few more of them had their cell phones out, recording the action. His lips drew thin as he turned his head back to me. “Get in the car, Detective Tanner.”
I wanted to call Sam, leave the phone on so he could hear everything that happened. But Pennington shut me down when I reached for my cell in my pocket.
“Hands where I can see them.” He reached for his piece but stopped short of pulling it back out. The point was made. I was going one way or another. It was my choice whether there’d be handcuffs involved.
“I’m a reasonable man,” I said. “I’ll go along for the ride. But if you think you’re getting me on a plane back to Philadelphia before we find Cassie, you’re out of your goddamned mind.”
Perhaps he’d learned from his previous outburst, because Pennington didn’t say anything. He stepped back as I moved forward. He pulled his hand off the door as I stuck my leg in the car. Once I was fully inside, he kicked the door shut. I reached for the handle without thinking, pulled it back. The door didn’t move. I felt like a caged tiger. Unless I planned on ripping out the barrier separating us and climbing over the front seat, they had me where they wanted me. The vinyl was cold to the touch from the frigid air that blasted from the vents. I slid to the middle of the backseat where the air streamed into my face.
Pennington took his place in the driver’s seat. At least the guy saved me the humiliation of flipping on his strobes and sirens. I might skirt the law at times, but I’m far from a common criminal.
Cervantes climbed in after talking with the folks who’d been watching. The detectives shared a quick glance, then Pennington dropped the car into gear and sped away.
I waved at my crowd of supporters. If the window had been down I might’ve yelled something to get them riled up. Instead I decided to save that for my fellow detectives.
“One of you clowns gonna read me my rights, or what?”
Pennington looked up into the rearview. “Did you do something that would require us to do so?”
I shrugged and offered no reply.
“You know this looks bad, right?” Cervantes said. His tone had grown menacing, more so than usual. “Cassie’s gone missing, and since then, you’ve been inside her house and spent time at the murder scene.” He half-turned in his seat to make eye contact with me. The look on his face matched his voice. “Someone might think you were trying to cover your tracks.”
“And someone with even half a brain might realize I was trying to be proactive rather than sitting on my ass. You know, do something, anything, to help us locate Cassie.” I threw up my arms and fell back against the seat. “You guys are wasting your damn time. Mine, too. Let me out here so at least one of us can do something other than sitting on our thumbs.”
We were heading west out of the historic district, presumably on our way to Cassie’s house. It’d be a pointless exercise. I’d already combed the house. They needed to send a forensics team over there instead of us tromping through and destroying any remaining evidence, if there was any to begin with. Could they find something proving Novak had been there? Sure, I guess. Point was, neither he nor Cassie were there now.
“What’d you guys find out at the girls’ house?” I craned my head to watch each of them in the rearview.
Pennington kept his eyes on the road. Cervantes stared down at his phone. I asked again and they continued ignoring me. Guess they didn’t want to talk to me, at least not now in the car. Whatever they had to say was going to wait until we reached Cassie’s house, and hopefully it didn’t include the words “you have the right to remain silent.”
We pulled to a stop. A group of six girls walked in front of the car. One had on a SCAD t-shirt. Did they know the recently deceased? I resisted the urge to tell them to be careful when picking up strangers. Doubt they would’ve listened, anyway. Those girls hadn’t a care in the world, despite what had happened recently. After they passed, I took note of the intersection. Montgomery and West Hall Street. We were west of Forsyth Park. That didn’t seem right. Then to make matters worse, Pennington turned right on Gwinnett, taking us in the wrong direction.
“Where’re we going?” I asked.
Neither man replied. Shocker. Less than a minute later we were hugging the on-ramp for I-16 West. Pennington pinned down the accelerator, only taking his foot off to slam on the brakes as he wedged into a small space between a black Chrysler minivan and an eighteen-wheeler carrying a load of empty cages. Loose chicken feathers floated off the bed and onto the windshield. Some remained caught in the slipstream, spinning and circling in the air.
Pennington gunned the engine again and whipped the wheel to the left. For five minutes he wove in and out of traffic until it had thinned enough he could do ninety in the left lane.
“Are you assholes gonna tell me what’s going on?” I said. “Where’re we going?”
Cervantes looked over his shoulder. His brows were knit together, a crease forming between them and running the length of his forehead.
Pennington glanced up in the rearview. He didn’t share the same concerned look of his partner. It almost looked as though the bastard was smiling at me. “You sure you don’t already know, Detective?”