Chapter 6 #3
Gideon seemed unfazed. He lifted his feet up onto his desk, balancing precariously on the back two legs of his chair. “What’s a ‘procedure’?” he asked. “Is that the place you go to get your nails done?”
“That’s a pedicure, moron,” Grady growled.
“One has to question why you know that,” Gideon retorted, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Grady looked like he was about one second from getting out of his chair to strangle their friend.
“Angela, Gideon, my office, now,” Riley said before turning and going back the way he had come, just expecting total obedience.
Quinn kicked Grady’s foot. “Come on, we need to go down to the evidence lockers.”
“Why?”
“They got another doll, and we need to check it out.”
“Great, because I just love looking at those creepy motherfuckers,” Grady grumbled as he got to his feet.
When they got to the evidence locker and Quinn signed out the doll that had been found with their newest deceased, Grady’s lip curled into a sneer.
“If I never see one of these again, it will be too soon.”
Quinn couldn’t agree more. He placed it on a bench in the room and then swept the side of his jacket across to get at his gun holster.
There was a small section beside it that held a utility pocketknife alongside some other items he used when he needed to get access to places that might otherwise have been locked to him. It was important to be prepared.
He flicked the blade out and then turned the doll onto its stomach and neatly sliced down the middle of its back, careful not to dig too deep.
He wasn’t all that surprised when it opened to reveal three bags of what he highly suspected was cocaine. Well, that answered that question, at least.
“Why would they put it in something that stands out so much?” Grady questioned.
Quinn pulled out the bags and then opened the doll further, checking the lining. There wasn’t anything else suspicious inside.
“If people saw this, they’d be too busy running in the opposite direction or thinking about how terrifying it is,” Quinn said.
“It’s the perfect subterfuge.” He sighed.
“We need to call the docks, airports, post offices, any way they could be transporting them. If any of these dolls are coming in from overseas, we want to know about it. We need to find a way to trace them back to where they’re coming from. ”
“I’ll make the calls,” Grady said. “I’ll leave you to”—he gestured to the mess that Quinn had made—”all this.”
“Thanks,” Quinn said wryly.
He made short work of cleaning up the mess and writing out a detailed description of what he’d done and why the doll was now mutilated, and it had bags of cocaine alongside it.
He kept it professional, knowing there was a chance the information would end up in court if they managed to find the person responsible.
Drug cases were convoluted and messy; there were always so many hands in the pie, so many intricate inner workings of a well-organised drug operation—even disorganised ones, really—that it was impossible to pin it down to just one person.
So often they were left scrambling and only able to charge lower-rung players.
He stared at the bag and its contents for a long time before he turned and left the room.
Will glanced around the fancy foyer and shoved his hands into his pockets.
Everything looked shined to perfection, and he felt like he was making it dirty just being in there.
The coffee shop that was attached to the foyer was closed, and it looked like construction was already underway to repair the damage from the drive-by.
He frowned as he made his way across the small space to the long sleek black-marble reception desk.
“May I help you?”
“I’m looking for Sebastian Devlin? He works in the building.”
“Do you have an appointment with him?”
“No, he’s not expecting me.”
She pursed her lips. “Let me check with him. May I see some ID, please?”
Will pulled out his wallet and flipped it open.
Her eyes widened a fraction as she took in his badge.
Sometimes he forgot it was even in there.
His job didn’t involve a lot of waving it around in people’s faces.
His tactical gear had it written all over, and it was self-explanatory who he was once he got boots on the ground.
“Just one moment. I’ll see if he’s free.”
Will thanked her and then wandered away as she made the call.
He moved closer to the coffee shop, peering inside.
He wondered what weaponry they had used and at what range.
Had it been a warning, or had they wanted to make sure they hit Sebastian?
They'd done a bad job at that, but that didn't mean it wasn't their goal.
Some bad guys weren't great at being bad guys.
“Mr. McMahon?”
Will stood straighter. “Sorry. Yes?”
“He said you can go right up. Third elevator to the right, eighth floor. Someone up there will direct you to his office.”
By the time he made it to Sebastian’s office door, he wondered if maybe coming here hadn’t been the best idea.
He hadn't told Peyton or Quinn that he was going to.
But he'd just... wanted to talk to him. Wanted to know where he fit in the weird circle they were creating.
And Will wanted to know where he fit because Quinn and Sebastian had a past, and Quinn and Peyton had their sun-burning level of chemistry. And Will had Peyton.
Quinn had kissed him, and he'd liked it. They'd both liked it. And Will wanted to do things with him that would get them arrested in public. He just didn't know if Quinn felt the same.
And Sebastian was tangled up in all of that.
He'd been with Will and Peyton for one night, and they hadn't exchanged numbers.
If there hadn't been a dead body in their apartment that morning, would they have ever seen him again?
Or would they have walked this half-life status quo forever?
A world where Quinn thought Peyton was with Will, where he thought that his chance with Sebastian had slipped through his fingers forever?
A world where he'd never given Will a second look.
He stopped at the door he'd been directed to. Well, at least he knew he was in the right place. The giant plaque with Sebastian’s name was a good indicator, but Will could also hear murmured voices inside. The second one he didn’t recognise, but the other was definitely Sebastian.
He took a deep breath and knocked.
Sebastian’s muffled voice called out, “It’s open.”
Something inside Will settled when he spotted Sebastian sitting at a large half-circle desk. He couldn’t have stopped the smile he felt lighting up his face.
“An unexpected pleasure,” Sebastian said smoothly as he answered Will’s smile with his own.
Will’s heart skipped a beat. “Hi.” Because Will was all kinds of eloquent and totally not out of his depth.
“I—um—” He licked his lips, all the words in his mind drying up and deserting him.
Sebastian was leaning back in his office chair, his sleeves rolled to his elbows as he ate noodles out of a takeout container using chopsticks.
His long fingers curled around the chopsticks with ease, like he’d been born using them.
He looked relaxed, at ease, and totally biteable.
Someone cleared their throat to his left, and Will flinched in surprise. He’d forgotten there was a second person in the room. His situational awareness was usually better than this.
The stranger was seated on a couch in the spacious office, with an identical takeout box in his own hands.
He looked roughly the same age as Sebastian, with dark hair and light-brown eyes.
He smiled at Will, his smile transforming his face into something warm and inviting.
“Seb is terrible at introductions. I’d apologise for his manners, but if you know anything about him, you know he doesn’t have any. ”
“That is a bald-faced lie,” Sebastian said, pointing at the man with one chopstick. “Slander is not allowed in my office.”
The man stood, placing his food on the coffee table. “I suppose it’s a good thing that wasn’t slander and merely fact, then, isn’t it?”
Sebastian just shot him an amused glance and scooped up some noodles.
“I’m Jay.”
Will took the hand offered as he said, “William. Will. Uh—just Will. I don’t know why I said William. No one but my mum—and my brother if he’s mad at me—calls me William.”
Jay didn’t laugh, but the way his mouth curled up and trembled a little told Will it was a close call. He wouldn’t have been offended if Jay had laughed. Peyton would have been laughing his ass off at this point in Will’s descent into babbling madness.
Silence settled between them, and Will realised they were waiting for him to say something. Probably explain why he was there. Which would have been a great start, really. Explanations were important.
“Do you want to get some lunch?” Will blurted out instead.
Sebastian slowly looked down at the box of noodles in his hand and then to where Jay had put his own box down. Will could feel his cheeks burning. He was already having lunch. What a stupid fucking question.
“Uh—I just wanted to talk to you about...” He glanced at Jay. “Things.”
“Things?” Sebastian looked like he was trying not to smirk.
“Two things in particular. Starting with a Q and a...” He looked at Jay again, and he knew he looked wild, eyes wide and a little terrified.
He wasn't great at being subtle, and he had no idea if this person knew anyway, and Christ, he wished someone would put him out of his misery.
“P,” he finished weakly. Maybe he was still drunk from the other night.
Sebastian nodded in understanding. “Ah. Then yes, I'd love to join you for lunch.”
“Colour me curious,” Jay said.