Free The Quickie by James Patterson Page B

guess the only good news is I got an ADA to get a subpoena to the telephone company. They’re getting Scott’s phones together right now. They’re going to fax it over within the next ten minutes.”

Chapter 38
    I SAT THERE, ROCK STILL, trying to absorb what I had just heard. The fluorescent lights above hummed in my ears like an angry beehive.
    How many times had Scott called me in the last month? Twenty? Thirty maybe? How was I going to bluff my way out of this one? I pictured the confusion on my partner’s face as he spotted my number over and over again.
    Mike moved his mouse to remove his “Who pissed in your gene pool?” screen saver. It sounded like someone stepping on Bubble Wrap when he rolled his neck.
    “Mike, what are you doing?” I finally said.
    “Gonna get a jump on those D-D-fives. Keane’s about to have triplets. Look at him in there.”
    DD5’s were the incident reports we had to write for Scott’s case file. I raised my eyebrows.
    “Um, hello? Earth to Mike,” I said. “People are going to actually read these reports, Shakespeare. You’re the beauty, remember? I’m the brains. In fact, why don’t you go grab a couple in the crash room upstairs. We need your head clear just in case we have to knock down a door with it. I’ll bang out the reports in a way that doesn’t get us reassigned, and when the phone records come in, I’ll start collating them. How’s that sound?”
    Mike stared at me, exaggerated hurt in his red-rimmed eyes. Then he yawned.
    “Yes, dear,” he said, standing.
    I held my breath as he walked to the exit. The bullpen gate had just swung back into place, when a low, off-pitch ringing sounded.
    I turned around. It was the fax machine.
Jeez, Louise.
    It rang again, and the sound was followed by an electronic bleep. One of the white sheets started to slowly slide down out of it.
    Keep going, partner, I thought, not looking at him. Please. For me.
    But out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mike turn around.
    My face felt hot. He would see it in a second. My number repeated over and over again! What the hell could I say? Nothing came to mind. How could I get out of this one?
    I turned all the way around as Mike lifted the first sheet out. I watched him squint, watched his hand go to his forehead.
    That’s when I noticed his reading glasses sitting there on the desk beside me, right where he’d left them.
    I didn’t think. I just acted.
    I opened my bottom-left desk drawer, and with one of Scott’s files swept Mike’s glasses off his desk and into the drawer. Then I quietly kicked the drawer shut.
    I pretended to ignore Mike until I heard him rummaging around on his desktop.
    “Didn’t I tell you to take a nap?” I said, annoyed. “You’re not having another senior moment, are you?”
    Mike exhaled a tired breath as he gave up the search for his glasses. He dropped Scott’s phone records in my lap.
    “All yours, sister,” he said weakly. “Courtesy of Ma Bell. See you in sixty winks.”

Chapter 39
    FOR TWO SOLID MINUTES, I spun my pencil through my fingers like a baton twirler, my old, creaky wooden office chair cawing as I rocked back and forth just staring at Scott’s phone records.
    I turned and squinted through the office glass at my mercifully still-busy boss, then looked back down at the eight number-filled sheets of paper in front of me.
    The fact that I’d managed to get my hands on Scott’s rec-ords was phenomenal, but after riffling through them, I realized I now had a new problem.
    I stuck the pencil between my back teeth and began turning it into a chew toy.
    How the hell was I going to remove my number from them?
    The thirty-three times it occurred!
    “Lauren,” a voice said.
    I almost swallowed the pencil’s eraser as I looked up. My boss had exited his office and crossed the squad room without my noticing. He placed his hands flat on my desk as he leaned over me, his fingernails practically scratching the edge of the fax paper. Could