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“No. Go home and sleep. I’ve got the church covered tomorrow. At some point before then, how close you came to dying is going to hit you. You’re going to need to process that.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I want to remove that word from your vocabulary.”
Gran’s words about the entire world not being against me rang in my ears. So I gave in. An inch. And promised I’d think about it.
27
ZEPH
The next morning, I got up with the sun, and like I did every day, scoured the web for any fresh information on Tammie and her missing son. There was none, so with a sigh I went out and checked the church for Lyric. I fully expected to find her in there, exhausted after her shift at the club but vigorously scrubbing the stone floor.
There was no sign of her though. It felt like a damn miracle, but perhaps she’d actually listened when I’d told her to take the morning off. I did some paperwork, ate a quick breakfast, then sat on the park bench on the church lawn with my morning coffee, sipping it slowly while hurried parents dropped their children off at the daycare. Lyric would be one of them at some point, and despite telling her to take the morning off cleaning, I was still desperate to see her.
It wasn’t Lyric’s beat-up junk bucket that cruised into the parking lot, though. A sleek, new police cruiser, marked as being from the Providence department, stopped in between the church and the daycare, the two officers in the front seats gazing out at me and then talking to each other.
I didn’t like how much they’d been hanging around. I’d given them all they could possibly need the last time they’d been here. Still, I put my priest face on and strolled through the early morning sunlight that dappled the grass and greeted them as they got out of the car. “What can I do for you, officers?”
“Zepherin Hart?”
I nodded in confirmation. I didn’t recognize either of them. They were different from the men who’d come to pick up files. “Is this about Toby Innes? Did you find him?”
“We’d like you to come down to the station, please.”
I frowned. “May I ask what for?”
The two looked at each other and then back to me.
“Best if we discuss it in town,” the taller officer stated.
I raised an eyebrow, distracted by Lyric’s car pulling into the gravel parking lot. She was supposed to be at home sleeping. I watched her run across the lot to drop Amelia at the daycare before I dragged my attention back to the police who were still standing there waiting for my answer.
“Is this the sort of thing I need a lawyer for?”
“We’d just like a chat.”
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen, because I had a pretty good idea what they might want to talk about, and it wasn’t Toby. If they were being cagey, it was definitely the sort of thing I wasn’t going to discuss without representation. “I’ll call my lawyer then.”
The officer nodded. “You can call him on the drive over.”
Not even letting me drive myself downtown. That couldn’t be good.
“And if I refuse?”
The older man narrowed his eyes. “I would dislike having to arrest you. My mama is a devoted churchgoer. She wouldn’t be happy with me.”
Dread crept up my spine. They had something on me. I could feel it from the way they were staring at me.
“I call bullshit.” Lyric strode across the parking lot toward us, her long legs eating up the distance. She had a pair of rubber gloves clutched in her fingers and her hair tied back with a bandanna. Clearly, she’d been planning on cleaning.
Brat.
“Excuse me?” the older officer said.
Lyric crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “You heard. You aren’t arresting him.”
“You his lawyer?”
