Free Hot Flash by Carrie H. Johnson Page A

way through the hungry reporters who heaped questions on his back, until he escaped into the backseat of a black Range Rover and was driven away.

C HAPTER 6
    I sped down I-95 cursing and pounding the steering wheel throughout the twenty-minute drive to the station. When I arrived, I blew past Parker and another of his stupid remarks, something about me looking like Cruella de Vil. I destroyed the hinges and almost shattered the glass window on Captain Butler’s office door, causing it to bang into the wall and bounce back to slam shut behind me.
    â€œHow’d this happen, Cap?” My voice squeaked.
    â€œWhat the hell is wrong with you, Mabley? Knocking is out of the question now?”
    I fell into the chair in front of Cap’s desk and rested my forehead in my palms to stave off a throbbing headache.
    â€œLook, Mabley. It’s out of our hands.”
    I sat up and snapped, “What the hell does that mean, ‘it’s out of our hands’?”
    Laughton stormed in a moment later. He sat down in the chair next to mine. I resumed my position trying to lessen the pain of my headache.
    The creaking of both Cap’s and Laughton’s chairs and the silence between them made me look up again. Laughton got up and leaned over the captain’s desk, his fists balled on the desktop as anchors for his taut arms. They glared at each other like boys crazed with proving whose testosterone level was mightier.
    The captain said, “Bastard’s skippin’ on some technicality, or at least that’s what they’re saying went down. Something about prosecutors let too much time pass between arresting him and taking him to trial. He’s got one shrewd attorney. Got a call in to Bandizzi, the lead on the case. Don’t expect things will change. But for now, Boone’s a free man. Fact is, he may stay a free man. Word is they may have to drop the charges altogether, including assault. Then we’re back to square one.”
    There was more silence while the staring duel continued.
    â€œOkay, so what am I missing? I definitely get the feeling there is something more to this episode than I’m privy to. Cap?” My stomach growled loud enough to disturb the dander contaminating the air. “Laughton?”
    â€œDamn,” Laughton said, pounding his fist on the desktop, then he stormed out. When the door slammed shut, a photograph of Cap’s wife and two daughters that hung on a side wall crashed to the floor. I resumed the headache position.
    â€œI’m sorry, Mabley,” Cap said. “You did your job. No fault of yours. Take a few days. You got plenty on the books. Laughton can handle the lead on the Taylor business.”
    I lifted my head and sat straight up in the chair. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell me to take a few days off?”
    â€œThat’s all there is to tell you.”
    â€œI’m no damn victim,” I squealed. “God knows I know the drill. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get the guy,’” I mimicked Cap’s baritone voice. “I’ve said it at least a thousand times to victims. But how do you tell the parents that their daughter’s killer is free because the police messed up?”
    â€œNot your call, that’s Homicide’s job.” He got up and came around to sit on the desk facing me. “Are you okay?”
    I hung on to his question. “This whole thing doesn’t feel right. Boone’s killed at least four people that we’re sure of, but we can’t seem to prove it and he’s out there, fancy-free. A technicality, my ass.”
    â€œThey’ll get him.”
    â€œThere’s something about this guy, Cap. He’s so sure of himself. Cocky, even.”
    â€œWhy’d he call you that night? Or was it just that you were the one who answered the call?” He hesitated, then continued. “You know you need to be clear on what