Prodigal

Chapter 30-2

The uniformed officer bumped JJ on his way out the door a few minutes later. Grant followed soon after.

“Hey,” JJ said, putting a hand on Grant’s arm. “How are you holding up?”

“Not now,” Grant said, closing the door behind him and giving Dorothy and Otto some privacy. They were still sitting on opposite sides of the table, but at least they were sitting, and not yelling.

JJ moved to block the narrow corridor and lowered her voice. “I know things are crazy right now, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

The building had access stairways at both ends, so rather than pushing past her, Grant turned and headed down the hallway in the opposite direction. “I’m sorry, JJ,” he said over his shoulder, “but believe it or not, the world doesn’t always run on your timetable.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Grant’s shoes echoed on the dark wood as he descended the stairs to the lower level. JJ stood for a moment and watched. She nearly let him go. And then she remembered: this is not about me. It wasn’t about her feelings or Grant’s feelings or the embryonic relationship she’d decided to nurture at the worst possible time for both of them. Except, of course, it was. Partially. Because life doesn’t allow for nice separate boxes or discrete categories.

She pounded down the stairs after him.

Around the halfway point, the enclosed stairway emerged from the lower level’s ceiling, opening up to the workspaces on one side and adding a safety railing. Grant waited at the bottom, along with the smells of coffee and pastries and the sound of muffled male conversations. “When were you—”

Grant paused, glanced down the corridor and peeked in the closest open rooms. He put his fingers lightly on JJ’s arm and nudged her past the open stairway, closer to the kitchen and the main exit. Then Grant edged closer, until JJ felt the paneled wall against her back, and asked the question she knew he’d been holding in all day.

“When were you going to tell me that Adam Rutledge was back in town?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

Grant extended his arm to the wall and his coat stretched wide, shielding JJ from the view of the kitchen. “The man’s been here less than twenty-four hours, and he’s managed to drive into a ditch, get the hell beat out of him, and have a heart attack in your shower.”

“It wasn’t a heart attack,” JJ said.

“Whatever. Did I mention he apparently arrived within hours of Rachel’s kidnapping?”

She probably should have been angry, but JJ wasn’t. Instead, she found herself smiling. “Is this about the kidnapping, or because you found me sitting on him naked?”

Grant’s face drifted closer to JJ’s. “He was naked; you were clothed.”

“Whatever,” JJ said.

The corner of Grant’s mouth twitched. “At least I know where he is, so that’s one less worry on my list.”

“About that… Adam’s in the back of Dorothy’s car right now. He checked out of the hospital, AMA.”

JJ was sorry to see the twitch that might have been a smile recede. Once it was gone, she figured she might as well keep going. “Listen, I know I have shitty timing, but there is something I need to tell you. About Rachel.”

Grant stiffened next to her. “Go on.”

“Leslie might be her father.”

Grant’s mouth dropped. He looked over his shoulder and down the hall again. “Leslie Beck?”

JJ nodded, not trusting herself to keep her voice down if she said more. But she couldn’t keep the distaste from her face.

Grant’s eyes narrowed. “Was it consensual?”

“No.”

Grant tilted his face away. The hand resting on the wall clenched into a fist, and JJ could hear him breathing. “Did Luther know?”

Now it was JJ’s turn to check the corridor. “Yes. It sounds like he gave his brother a Beck-style talking-to, but he didn’t report it.”

Grant closed his eyes briefly as he shook his head, then exhaled hard. “What about Otto?”

“Hard to say if he knows, but Dorothy didn’t tell him.”

“This keeps getting better,” Grant said. “Luther helped me interview Otto.”

“Are you going to tell the task force?”

“Tell them what?” Grant said. “That the guy in charge of our initial searches had a motive for kidnapping the girl he was supposed to be looking for? And by the way, his brother is the Number Two man in my department.”

JJ felt the need to play Devil’s Advocate. “Les has a possible connection to Dorothy, but that’s not the same as a motive. What’s the statute of limitations on rape?”

“s****l offenses, it depends on the circumstances, but for what you’re talking about, there isn’t one in this state. He could be prosecuted at any time.”

That surprised JJ. “What about Luther?”

Grant shook his head. “Let’s stop there.”

“Why? He—”

“JJ, you did the right thing, telling me. Thank you. But I can’t be talking to you about this stuff. The task force—not to mention our prosecuting attorney—will have my ass. As they should. Okay?”

“Okay.” JJ let her head drop toward her chest.

“Hey,” Grant said, pushing her hair back from her face. “Are we okay?”

She looked up at Grant, at the fear in his eyes that he couldn’t—or maybe didn’t bother to—hide. They had to find Rachel. Whole.

“Yes,” she said, touching his hand.

Grant nodded, squeezed her shoulder, and moved off toward the kitchen.

JJ stood for a moment, resting her head against the wall and listening. No one had passed them while they were talking, but she could have sworn she heard—and felt—the clomping of boots going back up the stairs.