him.
âThereâs been ringing on and off since you left,â said Jay.
Jacinta straightened up, she looked grey. She pushed past Jay and went down the corridor to the ringing.
Mace fished out his mobile, five missed calls, two from Buster, four percent battery. He rang her room. It rang out. He rang the switch at St Ags and asked someone to track her down. His phone went dead before they did. He flung it at the sofa and looked up to see Jay watching him.
âI guess youâll be sticking around then.â
âNot much choice.â Though maybe he could bargain his way past the cops. Theyâd let the race crowd disperse, what was one more guy?
âSheâs important to me.â
âI gathered.â
âNo, you donât get it.â
âIâm in the way. I get it.â
âNo fuckhead, you donât.â
âJay.â Jacintaâs tone shut Jayâs mouth. âYou should go.â
âIâll go.â Mace grabbed for his phone, went for his bags. On the TV some politician in casual clothes was calling for people to be calm.
She met him at the door. âTheyâre not going to let you out.â
âIâll make it work.â She put her hand to his chest and looked up at him. This was goodbye. They couldnât talk privately at work and he might not even run into her again, and Jay was hovering. âAre you all right?â
âIâll be fine.â
Of course she would. Heâd confused her for a moment with someone less capable, less in control because sheâd wrapped his shirt in her fist and was hanging on. He leant forward and kissed her forehead, she released his shirt and he stepped though the door.
Before it closed he heard Jay say, âHeâll be back.â
A different cop was on the door but the bodies were still there. He pushed it open and stepped out.
The cop put his combat boot in the door to hold it open. âYou need to go back inside, sir.â
âI donât live here. I need to get home.â
âPut your bags down and open them up.â
He did and when he straightened there were two other cops and a sniffer dog. âI need to get home.â He needed to get to St Ags, to Buster. He needed a phone to call Dillon and tell him to keep his hair on.
âID.â
He went for his wallet and the cop stopped his arm. âTell me what youâre going to do.â Man, heavy . They released the dog and it snuffled around his bags and he described where his wallet was. The dog went to its haunches, which seemed to be an all clear sign, and the cop fished out his wallet and pulled out his driverâs licence.
âMason Lauder. What are you doing in this part of the city?â
âI was with a friend.â
âThat friend live in this building?â
He nodded.
âSo youâll be staying with that friend until the curfew is over.â
He thought about saying friend was a pseudonym for one night stand and that heâd made the career limiting move of fucking his bossâ bossâ bossâ boss, and there probably werenât even enough bosses in that thought, and furthermore there were things he had to do, but what could he say? Countless people killed or injured, the city on high alert, a terrorist manhunt in progress. His issues were immaterial.
He shouldered his laptop bag and rezipped his duffle. âSorry. I didnât mean to cause a hassle.â
The foot in the door cop pushed it open and he went back inside. Without a lift swipe heâd have to camp out in the foyer, or buzz her to come get him. Not that he wanted to go back to her apartment and have to deal with the boyfriend.
He put his back to the glossy marble and slid to the floor. Took his shoe off and closed his eyes. It was going to be long day.
5:Â Â Â Locked Down
If she could force dry toast down Jacinta might stop feeling sick, and she needed her wits about her to deal with
Dorothy Salisbury Davis, Jerome Ross