All three of them are talking at the same time now, which makes it impossible to follow what they’re saying. At this point, I don’t really care. Kelsey will help me get Deo out. They can’t hold him. He hasn’t done anything wrong.
And I know he must be terrified. Our last encounter with the police resulted in Deo being returned to a privately administered foster home run by a couple one county over, a home he’d had very good reasons for leaving. The police were just doing their jobs by returning him, and one of them also did her job by reporting Deo’s claim of abuse. Kelsey pushed on that front, too. Thanks to the two of them, those creeps aren’t in the foster system anymore, and Deo eventually ended up at Bart House. But he was with those people for another two weeks, and they were pissed off about the increased scrutiny. Deo had bruises to prove exactly how pissed off they were, so I can’t blame him for not having warm fuzzy thoughts about the police.
Daniel now has Taylor by the upper arm and is steering her toward the door. “Mom has called home every night this week between six thirty and seven. That gives you maybe half an hour to get to the house and answer the phone. Because if she calls my cell to ask where you are, I can promise that I’ll be mentioning you used her work vehicle to follow me on police business.”
I wonder what sort of job their mother has that requires her to drive a Jeep that looks like it’s been dipped in grape Laffy Taffy.
“She lets me use it as long as I take the sign off,” Taylor says, jerking her arm away. “And you weren’t actually on police business.”
“Do you think she’ll like the fact that you were following me? Or that I saw you pulling out after I did, and yet you beat me here by what? Five minutes? Get home or I will tell her.”
“He’s right, Tay.” Aaron seems reluctant to agree with Daniel. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Taylor gives him an annoyed look, but her eyes really flash when she locks onto Daniel. “Are you sure you want to start threatening to tell secrets, Dan Quinn? Because I can play that game, too.”
They’re both focused on her right now, and I doubt there will be a more opportune moment for me to get the hell out of here.
Wait! You can’t—
I ignore Molly. That’s much easier to do now that my brain is occupied with worrying about Deo. My eyes fall on the Jeep, still running, but it doesn’t seem like a smart idea to head to the police station in a stolen vehicle, especially one that conspicuous. The bus stop is about a block away. I’ll call Kelsey from the bus and—
I don’t even make it off the stoop before Daniel hooks his arm around my waist and yanks me backward. “Oh, no, you don’t.”
He grunts when the heel of my shoe connects with his shin, but doesn’t let go until I’m inside. The last thing I see before the door closes is Taylor, stomping off to her vehicular monstrosity.
Daniel tosses me onto the couch, then sinks into the armchair, rubbing his leg. “You’ve got a wicked kick.”
“Yeah? Touch me again, and you’ll have a lawsuit on your hands in addition to the bruise.”
“Damn right!” Aaron says. “And I’ll back her up.”
Daniel tosses Aaron an annoyed glance, then looks at me again. “I’m sorry, okay? But if what Aaron says is true, you and your friend could be in danger. When I saw Baker outside your group home, I told him I knew where you were. That I’d bring you to the station. If you cooperate, maybe they’ll ignore the fact . . .”
His mouth is still moving, but I don’t hear the words. There’s a strange feeling of pressure just behind my forehead, and my teeth clench so tightly that my vision blurs. I close my eyes and make a conscious effort to relax my jaw. What the hell is Molly doing?
Stay back! I’ve got enough to deal with right now.
Hey, that wasn’t me.
When I tune back in, Aaron is once again yelling at Daniel, but Daniel is staring at me. He seems puzzled.
“. . . even more danger if the leak is from their office,” Aaron shouts.
“Except there’s no leak!” Daniel pulls in a deep breath, then lowers his voice and continues in a softer tone. “I know you’re trying to do the right thing, Aaron. So am I. Porter was talking about this to everybody. Baker said he got someone to post a POI—person of interest—notice on the department website last week, asking if anyone else had been victimized by a couple of teens claiming to be in touch with relatives of murder victims. He even posted something in one of the police-sponsored community discussion groups day before yesterday, asking people to call him if they had any information on her identity.”
“Why? He knew my identity. He had my phone!”
His brow creases, but he looks back at Aaron. “My point is that there was nothing to leak with Porter screaming all over town. You want to see the ads, then follow me when I take Anna to the station and I’ll print you out a copy. We’re on the same side here. We just need to work through the proper channels.”