The Order of Brigid's Cross - The Wild Hunt (Book 1): The Wild Hunt by Terri Reid Page A

his phone on the
paperwork piled up on the corner of his desk, sat down, and immediately began
typing on his keyboard. A few minutes later he looked up, grabbed his phone and
dialed Sean’s number, but it went straight to voicemail.
    “Damn,” he muttered. “Where’s your report, O’Reilly?”

Chapter Sixteen

 
    Turning right on a street corner near Jamal’s place, Sean
placed another call to the District Office. “Hey, this is O’Reilly,” he said
when the station house operator answered. “I need to talk to Sarah Powers.”
    “Just a minute, Detective, I’ll patch you upstairs.”
    Sean waited for a few moments listening to the public service
announcements. The CPD had hired a big-name marketing company to produce them. He
really hated the trite, candy-covered non-warnings that appeased both the
Tourism Bureau and the Mayor’s Office. If he were to produce radio warnings,
instead of softball catch-phrases like “Be Aware” or “Don’t Let Crime Ruin Your
Day,” he would use phrases that would catch the public’s attention. “People Are
Trying to Kill You. Don’t Be an Idiot.” or “They Don’t Give a Shit about You. Protect
Yourself.”   He nodded to himself, “Yeah,
those would work.”
    Finally, he heard a click of a connection. “Hey, O’Reilly?”
    “Yeah, I need to find out who released Jamal Gage from Cook
County Hospital this morning,” he said. “But I need to keep this between you
and me.”
    “Okay, give me a second,” she replied immediately, putting
him back on hold.
    Sarah Powers was a new recruit who
was quickly working her way up to detective.   She was smart, brave and feisty. Sean smiled. He especially appreciated
the feisty.   But, because she was the new
recruit, she also got all the crap work—like checking back on phone records.
    “I got nothing,” she said. “No one from our office called it
in.”
    “Are you sure?”
    Sarah began to respond but paused, and Sean nearly smiled,
knowing Sarah was counting to ten before she opened her mouth with a smart-ass
retort. “Yes, Detective,” she replied calmly. “I’ve checked the phone records
twice, and I even went through all the phones in the department and checked
their memories to see if someone called but didn’t log it in.”
    “Thanks, Sarah,” he said. “I should have known you’d be
thorough.”
    “Yeah, you should have,” she replied with a smile in her
voice. “Is the kid going to be okay?”
    “I hope so, Sarah,” he said. “I really hope so.”
    Fifteen minutes later Sean pulled his unmarked car up to the
front door of the projects.   He’d had
enough experience to know that parking in the lot or on the street and walking
to the door just made you a target for snipers.
    He jogged to the front lobby and paused.   There was a stillness in the building that he had never experienced before when coming to one of the
projects in the middle of the day.   The
lobby was clear.   The staircase was
empty.   And, he noted when he glanced
through the bullet-proof glass to the parking lot, even the grounds were empty.
People were scared.
    He made his way up to the fourth floor and knocked on the
apartment number the receptionist had given him.
    “Don’t you answer that door,” a high-pitched and elderly
voice called from inside the apartment. “You ain’t gonna go with those no-good, trouble-making, worthless pieces of trash. So you
can just halt in your tracks, young man.”
    Sean bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He
knocked again. “Chicago Police Department,” he said. “I’m Detective O’Reilly
looking for Jamal Gage.”
    “What’s taking you so long, boy?” Sean heard the same voice
reply in an urgent tone. “You go answer that door. Don’t
leave no policeman waiting.”
    A few minutes later, sitting on a small, lumpy couch whose
cushions sunk down several inches when he sat on them, Sean found himself in
the uncomfortable position of having to look up at Jamal