‘Sure.’He typed back.
Nice one, buddy. Cool and collected.A long pause stretched between him and the screen, and he wondered if Lucas had given up and gone back to bed.
Then,‘Thanks, could you have a look at page 6 and tell me what you think?’
Oliver let out a long sigh. Good. This was good. No calls, just messages. He could handle messages. Flicking to his emails, he opened the document. The first page read,‘Restricted Access. Authorised Personnel Only.’Well, he supposed that must have made him ‘authorised personnel’.
Scanning the first few pages, it seemed like a standard briefing document containing people and places he didn’t recognise. But then he got to page six and saw Helena Cartwright’s name. The entry read:
‘Helena Cartwright, 12, alpha female, found to be travelling with Adrian Moore in a blue Sandero, eastbound to Wicking. Police seized and itemised Cartwright’s attire and personal effects, which included: 1 pink Armani tracksuit, 1 smartphone, 1 silver Gucci handbag, 2 pink Dior pumps, and underwear.Cartwright did not appear to be in a state of distress but was evasive when speaking to officers.’
Oliver frowned and flicked back to the conversation with Lucas.
‘Helena’s a tomboy. Or she was when I saw her last year. She’d never have worn all that designer crap.’
Lucas began typing immediately.
‘Do you think she’s being groomed, or is it a case of her tastes changing?’
‘I’ll reserve judgement until I see her. And the male, what was he wearing?’
‘Page 8.’
Oliver scrolled to the page and read:Adrian Moore, 47, male alpha.Listed was an equally expensive array of clothing. Oliver began typing.
‘Weird that they’d be driving around in a Sandero—a mid-range family car. I’d have expected something flashier given what they were wearing.’
Lucas replied,‘Sandero’s have a well-known glitch in their GPS software. If you hack the chip, you can trick the car into thinking it’s been somewhere else.’
Oliver frowned and typed out a response.‘Was it a rental?’
‘No, it should have been in the showroom at the High Enfield dealership.’
Oliver hummed and took another sip of coffee. Everything clicked into place.‘Is that why you were at the court? Were you applying for a search warrant?’
‘Yes.’
‘You didn’t look very happy about it.’
‘The judge was a cock.’
Oliver snorted into his cup, knowing exactly which judge Lucas was referring to.
‘You know they monitor our conversations, right?’’
‘My comment still stands.’
‘Did you get the warrant?’
‘Yes. Can I call you?’
Oh. Oh no, he wasn’t off the hook after all. He glanced at the clock again as a rush of warmth pulsated down his legs. It was only 5:28am, but he felt like he’d done a full day’s work already. Shaking his head, he took another sip of coffee. He’d have to face the alpha in a few hours, perhaps he could use the call as a little warmup.
‘Sure,’he replied.
Within seconds, his work phone rang and—much like the toast—he nearly smacked it into another time zone. He stared at the number on the screen, working up the nerve to answer. Clearing his throat, he said, “Hello?”
“Reed.”
