Picking up where I left off... Who: Yancy and Kevin (Tag for Thomas) When: Afternoon Where: Yancy's office, Los Angeles What: The investigation continues...
Yancy's stress ball was starting to look rode hard and put up wet. He put on his reading glasses to better assess the damage when his phone rang. He tossed the ball aside and snapped up the receiver.
"Parker," he said. That had started as a joke among those who knew him, that he answered the phone like a cop in a TV drama. Then it had become a bad habit.
"Mr. Parker?" The voice on the other end of the line was gruff and too deep for its own good, weathered. "This is Kevin Sterling, FBI. I'm contacting you about your case."
"The case that's now so old it's got cobwebs on it, you mean?" Yancy prompted, leaning back in his chair and kicking his feet up on his desk.
"Yeah, that one," Kevin replied without missing a beat. "We're currently working out of New York on some cases that might be connected to yours, but we won't know more until I can sit down with you myself. And if that's not incentive enough, you're friend Ambrose Pierce came by."
"Ambrose?" Yancy muttered, then immediately wanted to kick himself for it. Sounding vulnerable like that to this cop would doubtless cause problems.
"Yep," Kevin grunted. "Came by and gave us some very interesting details about the situation surrounding your torture that has made us wonder fairly deeply about the validity of your attack. Feel free to have a fit all over me, but I think your best bet would be to come to New York as soon as you can and meet up with me."
Yancy practically bubbled over where he sat, with rage, fear, anxiety, all those things he'd hoped he'd beaten with enough time. "I'll get on the next flight. I have to go."
"You do that," Kevin said. "Give us a call when you get in." He gave his phone number, the address for the precinct, then bid him good day.
Yancy had been close to banishing himself to the Realms for months now. Laying low and cutting off all ties, and this just made the temptation that much stronger. But if he did that, the fucker that had done this to him would go free indefinitely. He sat drumming his fingers on the top of his desk for a moment before picking up the phone again and dialing Thomas's number.