The Dark Places by R. Whitfield (novel24 TXT) 📕

slowly rebuilt. Sitting down, she clasped her fingers together and pressed them forward, allowing them to crack loudly.

“Time to type,” she said, hoping Surin would call again soon. Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing phone. Speak of the devil, she thought, and picked it up immediately. “Detective Elliott, missing me?” She smiled into the phone.

“Um, is this Madison Brooke?” asked a confused male voice.

“Oh sorry, yes, who is this?” she asked briskly, annoyed at herself for not checking the caller ID before picking up.

“It’s, um, it’s Grayson Withers.”

Madison shook her head. “Grayson who?” she asked.

“Thought you might say that.” He snorted into the phone, contempt lacing his voice. “We shared a night together that ended at gunpoint.”

Madison’s fingers froze over the keyboard. Fuck, she thought. No, no, not now!

“How did you get this number?” she asked, hearing the indifferent tone in her voice.

“We all have sources,” he said quietly.

“What is it exactly that you want?” she asked quickly, desperate to end the call.

“To meet,” he stated.

“No,” Madison said matter-of-factly. “I am still trying to rebuild my life after that night,” she stammered, her voice rising in anger. “I won’t make the same mistake twice.” She knew that what she was saying was harsh, but she didn’t care.

“Well, I’m so happy you’re getting your life back together,” he replied bitterly. “I’m sure you lost the love of your life that night as well,” he spat back.

Madison realised that there was a slight slur to his voice — he was drunk. Sighing, she sat back in her chair and rubbed her forehead.

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t sign up to counsel the cheating fiancé,” she said, “but since you rang, and I’m sure it will be the only time you will ever ring, out with it.” She shook her head. “What do you want?”

“Cheating fiancé?” he retorted. “You didn’t seem to mind at the time.”

Madison laughed. “You probably should have mentioned that you were engaged to a detective, and not just any detective, but Surin Elliott.” She stood and walked over to the window. “I would have run out of that pub screaming. I certainly would not have jumped into your bed.” She heard him laugh quietly on the other end.

“Yeah, she is something,” he said sadly.

Madison heard the sorrow in his voice. “Grayson, what are you ringing me for?” she added gently, but his voice turned sour.

“I want you to tell me about Parker Rhodes,” he said. “Her partner,” he continued, emphasising the word.

“No,” she stated simply. “I will not betray her a second time.” She placed her free hand on her hip. “If you want to know about Surin and her life, you will need to call her.” She nodded to her reflection in the window. “Please don’t ever call this number again.” With that, she hung up the phone. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a large glass of Sauvignon Blanc. Conundrum number one for the evening, she thought, do I tell Surin he rang. She took a long sip and sighed. Right now, we both need to focus on the case, she thought. If the topic of her ex-fiancé ever came up in polite conversation, she could drop it in that he had rung her drunk one evening wanting dirt on her new partner. That should go over well. Madison shook her head, shit. “I have to tell her,” she said aloud, “but not today.” Walking back over to her desk, she sat down and continued where she had left off, the disappearance of Emma Silverman.

23

Surin nursed a hot cup of coffee and stared out from the ninth floor of the Baltimore Police Department. She felt numb. Her head ached liked it was being beaten constantly by an internal drummer. Parker walked into the room and closed the door quietly. She could see his reflection in the window as he hesitated to approach her. She turned around.

“I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth. There was nothing she despised more than being seen as weak.

Parker nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets. She turned back to the Baltimore skyline and sighed. “For God’s sake,” she added, “I’m not made of glass, you can speak.”

“Sorry,” he replied, “I’m at a loss, Elliott.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I have no idea what the fuck is going on.”

She looked at her feet, embarrassed.

“You have an emotional breakdown and then stand up and make a cup of coffee?” he said exasperated. “I can’t keep up!”

She did feel bad. Looking at him, seeing his frustration, she walked over and placed her hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry,” she said honestly, feeling the lump in her throat rise again. “I’m OK, and I promise, if the time comes, you will be the first and probably only person I will come to.”

He looked at her. “Are you really OK?” he said gently, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. “I’ve never seen you like that.” Surin felt her cheeks flush and looked away, his touch still lingering on her skin. “You were scared,” he whispered.

She drained the last of her cup and placed it on the conference room table.

“So,” she said smiling, hoping to lighten the mood, “how many witnessed the humiliation of Surin Elliott?”

Parker laughed quietly, shaking his head. “No one,” he said, looking her in the eyes. “I shut the blinds and told everyone you were in the zone.”

She nodded appreciatively.

“No one wanted to interrupt you, afraid of what you would do to them.” He grinned.

“Thank you,” she replied quietly. “I owe you one.”

Parker walked over and re-opened the door, motioning for her to exit. “You owe me more than that, Surin,” he said as she walked past him. “You owe me an