Page 160 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“I didn't say I'd enjoy it.”

“She wants my phone.”

“I heard.”

Elliot picked it up. The device suddenly felt heavier. Not because there was anything obvious. There wasn't. He was careful. Messages deleted when necessary. Search history clean. Photographs ordinary. No evidence stored digitally. Still. Phones contained lives. Locations. Metadata. Patterns. Information people forgot existed. Elliot knew that. Vance knew it better.

“Bell,” Ronan said.

Elliot looked up.

“Call him now.”

“It is almost midnight.”

“He bills Dad. He'll survive.”

Elliot smiled faintly.

“That's the first useful thing you've said tonight.”

Ronan gave him the finger. Normal. Tiny. Needed. Elliot called. Gregory Bell refused to let Elliot surrender his phone voluntarily. That was the short version. The longer version involved eleven minutes of legal explanation, repeated use of phrases like scope of consent, digital privacy, and probable cause, and Ronan pacing around the kitchen as though personally preparing to sue the Bellweather Police Department. Elliot mostly listened. Bell eventually said, “If Detective Vance wants the device, she can specify what she seeks or obtain judicial authorization.” Ronan mouthed, See? Elliot rolled his eyes.

“Understood.”

“Do not delete anything tonight.”

Elliot's fingers went still. Bell continued.

“Anything. Messages, photos, apps, browser history. Deletion after a request can be characterized badly regardless of intent.”

“I wasn't going to.”

“Good.”

That part was technically true. Everything requiring deletion had already been deleted long ago.

“Meet me outside the station at eight forty-five,” Bell said.

“Okay.”

The line ended. Ronan looked at Elliot.

“Feel better?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Why good?”

“Because maybe you'll finally react like a normal person.”

Elliot stared. Ronan's face changed immediately.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

Elliot laughed. This time genuinely.