Free The Forsaken by Estevan Vega Page A

it wait?”
    “No. It’s been churning in my gut. Look, before you walked in, I was on the phone with someone.”
    “Yeah, I noticed,” Jude spat. “I was wondering when you planned on bringing that up. Seemed like you were playing that one a little too close to the chest. Where does that rank in your trust meter?”
    “I wasn’t hiding it from you. Honestly, at first I didn’t think anything of it. Then I remembered that the chief wanted to see…Forget it. Basically, this guy randomly called in to offer a tip.”
    “A tip? What’d he want?”
    “Nothing. He called your desk, but since you weren’t here, I picked up.”
    Jude stopped in the hallway. “Never take my calls. Are we clear?”
    She was taken aback. “Crystal.”
    “This saint got a name?”
    “No name. His voice was all distorted. I think he had one of those devices.”
    “Is that the factory-issued name?” Jude snickered. “It may be bogus. Some loser playing a prank.”
    They arrived at the break room, and Jude made himself a cup of coffee.
    “But he provided a legitimate address,” she said. “I verified it. A group of projects. He told me we’d be closer. Said that place could lead us to who we’re looking for.”
    “That isn’t cryptic at all. Where’d the call come from?”
    “Pay-phone. Bogus or not, we should probably check it out.”
    “So naïve,” Jude said, sipping his coffee. Rachel started walking away. It was in the way she exiled him in that break room, the way she brushed loose strands of smooth hair from her eyes, that kept him frozen for a moment, sinking in the frailty of his words. His lack of confidence cut through her. It was enough to shut her off, and he knew it.
    “I’ll do it myself,” she said.
    Suddenly, the chief’s request echoed inside of him. He bit down hard and tossed his cup into the trash. He’d lost this battle, no question. “What’s the exact location?”
    Rachel maintained a brisk pace like she hadn’t heard him.
    He folded. “I’m coming with you. Just tell me where we’re going.”

11

    THE SILENCE CONSUMED EVERY square inch of the car space. But it was more than the quiet that left moments vacant inside Jude’s rundown Chevelle; it was undeniable tension. Painful, wandering-eyes tension that made all the hairs on his forearm prick up. He couldn’t lie; Rachel riding shotgun felt more right than any partner he’d ever had, yet there was this relentless disapproval that floated around in his veins. He couldn’t shake it, like she didn’t belong here. Like she was better than this place.
    He was well aware that he’d pried open Pandora’s Box by agreeing to go on Rachel’s witch hunt, but any stray thought was bombarded by a thousand more, with Mike’s harsh resolve in stinging opposition.
    “You know, you can stop brooding. I know you only came ’cause I made you feel like a bucket of crap. Guilt gets to you, doesn’t it?”
    Jude scanned the streets, distracted.
    “It’s okay if you think this is senseless,” Rachel said. “Big girl, remember? It won’t hurt my feelings.”
    He came to a stop at a light. It was fewer than thirty seconds before the light flashed green and he took a right. He kept tightlipped.
    “It isn’t a sin to talk, Jude.”
    “Not a big talker, Rachel. ”
    “Is there something about me that turns you inside out or something? You’re suffocating me.”
    He slyly replied, “Crack a window.”
    “You see, that’s what I’m talking about. You’re like a whirlwind of bad attitudes. Since the moment I met you, you’ve been a headcase.”
    “That’s good. Study me real nice. Real thorough. Figure me out.” Jude choked down a mocking laugh.
    “Are you ever gonna grow up? I’m not dropping this case. Even if I could leave, I think it’d be more fun to stick around and wear you down.”
    “Don’t worry, you’ve made all the right plays. You’re well on your way to being his little treasured pet.”
    “Is that what this is all