Hollywood Tough (2002) by Stephen - Scully 03 Cannell Page A

one of those tired, dusty wharf pelicans who had finally given up foraging for food and sat on a concrete piling, taking French fries from tourists, never moving until, with clogged intestines, it finally toppled off the pier into the water. Shane sat on this damn chair way too much, looking at these same unaltered vistas. His view of this canal never changed, but in his mind, somehow it always looked slightly different. Maybe it was a new shadow on the water, or a shaft of sunlight through a cloud, or maybe he was just sliding into some early form of geriatric senility. He pulled out his phone and called Alexa, but only got as far as the X . O . at Detective Services Group, who told him that his wife could not be disturbed. She was in a briefing with the chief.
    "Tell her that her husband called and--"
    "Right," the sarge said, and was gone before Shane could continue his message. Obviously they had very little patience for the spouses of commanding officers right now.
    There was a clipped irritation in the man's voice, which told Shane that all was not well on the sixth floor at Parker Center.
    He spent the early evening going through the bills on his desk, trying to clear the decks for tomorrow's return to duty. His meager bank balance was $437.86. Depressing. Two hours later he put everything away in the desk drawer and locked it. It was after nine. He was looking at the phone on his desk, thinking he shouldn't make this next call, but already knew he was going to. A valiant little internal struggle ensued where the outcome was never really in doubt, so he finally went into Chooch's room, found his school phone directory, looked up Billy Rano's number, and dialed. Mrs. Rano picked up on the second ring.
    "Yes?" Beth Rano was a professor of African Studies at Pierce College.
    "Hi, Beth. This is Shane Scully. I need to talk to my son. I understand he's over there."
    "Chooch isn't here, Shane."
    His heart started beating faster. "He said he was spending the night with Billy."
    "I'm sorry, I don't know anything about that. Billy's here, you want to talk to him?"
    "Please . . ."
    After a moment he heard Billy Rano's soft African-American lilt.
    "Wassup, Mr. Scully?" the tall; quick wide receiver answered.
    "Hi, Billy, I'm looking for Chooch."
    "Uh, I left him at the library around five o'clock." "I thought he was spending the night over there." "He was, but he said something came up. Didn't sa y w hat."
    "Okay, thanks," Shane said. "If you hear from him, tell him to call home."
    "Yes, sir."
    Shane hung up and his imagination immediately started to run away with him. What if Chooch went to see Amac?
    Of course, that was about the stupidest thing Chooch could do with the Emes in a citywide war. But the more he thought about it, the more he was sure that was exactly what his son had done.
    He dialed Chooch's cell phone, and it started ringing down the hall in his bedroom. His son hadn't taken it with him.
    He called Amac's cell number and got an "out of the area" recording. He called Alexa again and this time, by claiming a personal emergency, was put directly into Chief Filosiani's office.
    "I'm sure he's okay," she said after listening to his concern. "He's probably studying with somebody, or maybe he's at the library. Did you try to call him?"
    "He left his cell here. I think he's with Amac," Shane said. Then he heard the back door slam. "Hold it. I think he just came in. Talk to you later."
    Shane hung up the phone and met his son in the kitchen. "Where've you been, bud?" Shane asked with a little too much force, and got the teenage mantra.
    "Out," Chooch stonewalled.
    "Right, but out where? I called Billy. He said he left you at five. It's after nine."
    "Don't you trust me, Dad?"
    Shane had one of those parental moments. Did he want to make this a battleground where Chooch's word was at stake? "You know I trust you."
    Chooch nodded, retrieved a soda from the fridge, then walked past him without saying anything else.
    Shane