Chapter Eighteen

 

It wasn't hard to see, through the night-vision binoculars, what was happening. What was hard was figuring out a way to do something about it. And figuring out what the hell it all meant.

It wasn't hard to figure out what Mitch's reaction would be. He'd either be angry that Anna hadn't somehow figured out a way to stop it—because everything was her fault, all the time—or he'd be disinterested. Those were the only two emotions he had about any of this.

Either it's all a big hassle for him, a big embarrassment for him, or it's not something worth thinking about at all. The thought puts Josh into a bad mood right off the bat. He turns the binoculars towards Anna. He can't see her face through the infrared, but she's got something in her arms.

From the size, from the way that she's so wrapped up in it, it's not hard to know what it is. When a bright orange shape reaches out, up towards Anna's face, it all but confirms.

His heart flutters in his chest. Thank God. They've got something, at least. Things went bad. But they've got a long time to deal with that. They'll want way more than a few petty million dollars out of a billionaire's pocket.

Never mind that there would be more than one major source of funding who would love to have a sitting congressman who knows exactly how much he has to appreciate from them. That by itself would be worth tens of millions. Hundreds of millions of dollars.

Josh sets the binoculars down.

"Where are you going?" He looks down at Sherry as he pushes himself up.

"I'm going to meet Miss Witt. That boy is going to give her hell when his daddy ain't with her, and you and I both know it."

She doesn't argue. She doesn't argue because she knows he's right, in spite of the fact that she might not want to think about it. Nobody wants to think about it, but that doesn't change reality.

Josh stuffs his hands into his pockets and shifts his weapon out of the way. It seems like no matter where he's got it, it's always in the way. Maybe the answer is a shoulder holster. Some guys prefer them.

Still, that would be weird, too. Uncomfortable. And he wouldn't be able to walk around without his jacket on without advertising it to the whole world, which isn't exactly what he wants either.

He makes good time getting there, but they were a long way back. Anna, who only had a hundred yards or so to go, can't take that much time. Which means that by the time Detective Meadows gets there, she's already back there with Mitchell.

Josh isn't in a position to hear the whole conversation, but things can't have gone too far.

"—thinking, were you?"

"I'm sorry, Mitch, I didn't mean to—"

"I'm sure you're real sorry, you dumb bitch. I can't fucking believe they trusted you with this. Didn't they know how bad you'd fuck it up? Haven't they seen how much you've fucked up everything else so far?"

Anna's curled herself up around the baby, now. Like she's trying to form a protective shell around the girl. Though it's Mitchell's little girl, and though he's never seen her in his life, he doesn't seem to have any interest in looking at the kid.

"Cut it out, Mitch." Josh's own voice surprises him. It's got a hard edge to it. A threat that he's not going to put into words, but one that he's absolutely willing to put to the test.

"You must have seen. She let them take my dad. This bitch can't even—"

Josh's hand balls up in Mitchell's shirt. The shirt by itself probably costs more than the detective's suit. More than he makes in a month, probably.

"Do you know how to shut your mouth?"

His right hand is a tight fist. He keeps it at his side, but every sinew in the arm is ready to snap all at once to drive a punch into the younger Queen's face.

Mitch's face is twisted up in a mask of fury. There's not a single sign of fear on his face. The threat of violence might not have connected yet, and it probably won't until Josh follows through. He hasn't decided not to, yet.

"Get your filthy hands off me. What did she do to get you on her side? She fucking you? What's it like eating someone else's leftovers?"

Josh isn't aware of what happens until a moment later, when he wakes up to the sight of Mitch Queen on the ground, his own body pressing the boy into the dirt. His knuckles hurt where the skin's split on the boy's skull.

Mitch looks like someone's smashed his face in, but as Josh slows the pounding as his consciousness returns, the boy's face twists into a smile.

"Fuck you, you dumb sack of shit," he says. There's blood on his teeth when he smiles. "Get off me."

Josh gets off him and stands up. He ignores the stinging in his hands.

"You're not hurt, are you?"

Anna shakes her head, but she's got her eyes on Josh. She's got a strange look in her eyes. It might be fear, it might not.

"I'm going to get you back to the police."

"Are you—is that—are you going to be in trouble for that?"

Josh looks over his shoulder. Mitchell spits into the ground. It's hard to make out colors without much light, but the spit is dark-colored.

"Doesn't matter," he says. His voice is soft. Josh leans over and looks at the baby. She smiles up at him and he can't help smiling back. "Is this Ava?"

Anna doesn't look up at him when she answers. "Yeah, this is her. She's a sweet-heart, isn't she?"

"What a cutie," Josh says. He steps back. He shouldn't be getting this close. He can't deny how good it feels, though. In the morning, things can go sideways. He can get busted back down to patrol.

But for now, he's at least got something going right for him.