Chapter 34
Mac left Marcel Johnson’s office and stepped into the rain, drops hitting his bald head and goosebumps rising on his flesh as he moved to the curb and hailed a cab. He knew all the taxis would be full this time of day, in this section of town, in this kind of weather, especially for a black man.
But he didn’t care.
If his body didn’t breathe on its own, his heart beat without his direction, he’d be a dead man—so focused were his thoughts on what he’d just learned.
Ellie.
Johnson’s information changed everything. Mac would need verification, of course, and if the PI was right, it was going to be a long, difficult road to locate his wife. But he had to try. Now more than ever, Ellie needed him.
His head pounded, his fall off the wagon a powerful blow that had nearly brought him to his knees, and he knew only a drink would ease the pain that clung to his temples and throbbed inside his skull.
But if he was going to find Ellie, he needed to keep working for HERO Force, which meant he had to be sober.
She would win that wrestling match any day of the week.
A cab pulled over and two businessmen hopped out. Mac climbed inside. It smelled like onions, the kitchen scent momentarily grabbing his attention. “Where to?” asked the driver.
This was it. It started now, no second thoughts. “Riker’s Island.”