Chapter Eleven
“I need to make a call,” I announced, breaking the silence after twenty minutes in the stale Oldsmobile. I wasn’t sure if the clock on the dash was accurate, but it said it was a little past noon, and that seemed about right. My stomach growled, reminding me that we hadn’t eaten for hours and it was lunchtime. It also occurred to me that a certain woman would most definitely be at her desk right about now, enjoying the silence as all the other cops set out to their standard local haunts. A good time for a quick, clandestine chat.
“You can’t use the phone, remember?” Teach insisted. I knew that was true. I turned it off the moment we left the warehouse. A few miles back, Teach had gotten antsy again and insisted I toss it out the window. I’d watched it being crushed into a
