“Too late for that.” She chuckled, a case of laugh or cry. “And you don’t know what’s at stake.”

“Your career?”

“No.” Amanda shook her head as if her friend could see her. “Something’s come up in the investigation that’s far bigger than Palmer.”

“Oh.”

“But I want to talk to Malone about it before I tell you. Make sense?”

“Makes complete sense.”

Amanda looked over at the chain-link gate that barred off the parking lot from the construction site. She might be able to get onto the premises, but even if she did, she’d have no clue where to find Hunter.

She wrung her hands on the steering wheel. She couldn’t just sit around doing nothing. “I should really get going, Beck.”

“Yeah, no worries. Call me when you get a chance.”

“Will do. Bye.” Amanda ended the call. She’d go to the station, tell Malone about the girls and the sex-trafficking ring, and plead with him to let her work that aspect of the case. She just hoped he’d overlook her lack of an alibi.

Thirty-Four

Amanda hit a coffee shop in Woodbridge before going into the station; it was no Hannah’s Diner, but their coffee was decent. And there was something about holding onto a to-go cup that calmed the nerves. She bought one for Trent too, and had the barista stuff a couple of creamers and sugar packets into a small paper bag. She hadn’t heard how he’d ordered his coffee the other day and they’d drunk from lidded to-go cups.

But when she reached his cubicle, he was nowhere in sight. Cud was at his desk and did a double-take in her direction, making her feel a little self-conscious about the bruising and cuts to her face. She’d done her best to cover them, but one could only expect so much from foundation and concealer.

“Good morning.”

Amanda turned to see Trent, and she smiled at him and held out her offering. “I thought you might like a Jabba.”

“Always.”

“I didn’t know how you took it, so…” She pointed to the bag.

He dropped the bag into his garbage can. “Love it black.” He went to take a sip but held it up in a toast gesture. “Thanks.”

So he liked it black—interesting. “You’re welcome.”

“I thought maybe I’d missed you and you were off talking to—”

“Detective Steele.”

“Sergeant,” she said, spinning to face Malone.

His eyes widened at her appearance, but he regained his composure quickly and pointed toward his office. She dipped her head in acknowledgment.

“As you were,” she said to Trent before following her superior.

She sucked in a deep breath as she entered Malone’s office and he closed the door behind them.

“I’m not sure I want to know about—” He circled his finger to indicate her face.

“You don’t.”

“Hmph.” He sat behind his desk, and she took the visitor chair.

He said, “From what I see, you and Trent are getting along well. Don’t worry, there will be future cases for you two to work together.”

She liked Trent, but she still wasn’t sold on having a partner. She should plow ahead about the sex-trafficking ring, but instead, she asked, “What’s Trent’s story?” The question rushed out of her so fast that it surprised her—and given Malone’s expression, him too.

Tags: Carolyn Arnold Thriller
Source: readsnovelonline.net