Page 76 of Dirty Daria

“New partner or new job. Your choice.”

“Seriously?”

“Nah, probably not. I can’t lose you and Roberts in the same day.”

“Where’s he going in UC?”

“Don’t know.”

“Deep?”

“Don’t know that either.”

“Does it have to do with the case on Tremblay?”

“How many times you need to hearI don’t knowbefore it sinks into that thick head of yours?”

“Apparently more than this. Shit. He didn’t even say anything to me. We’ve been partners for six years.”

“Sorry, Murph.”

Well, crap. I can sit here looking like a dumbfounded idiot, or I can go somewhere else and do it. Deciding, I stand and walk around to the other side of his desk to pat the chief on the shoulder and squeeze slightly. “I know, chief. Thanks.”

My version of an “office appropriate” hug with my boss. Then I head to the break room to get some more coffee, tempted after this latest news to make it scotch instead.

What the fuck, Reed?

* * *

It’s been hours since I talked to the chief and I’ve gotten nothing more accomplished than drinking three cups of coffee. My stomach is ready to revolt, and I’ve had to shit twice.

My phone buzzes on my desk, snapping me out of whatever reverie I may have been enjoying.

“Murphy,” I answer.

“Mack?”

“Cutie, that you?”

“Yeah, it’s Quinn. Hey, are you busy?”

“I’m never too busy for you, darling. What’s up.”

“Well, this is awkward, especially since he’s probably right there next to you, but I was wondering if you knew what was going on with Reed? And you don’t have to say anything specific. I guess just maybe tell me if he’s safe. Or if he’s said anything about me. But I don’t want him to know I’m on the phone.”

“That won’t be a problem, Cutie. He ain’t here.”

“Oh. Wow. Okay, in that case, what the hell is going on with him? At the risk of giving you too much information, he came over last night and spent the night, and it was amazing. And then he was just gone this morning. No note, no text, no call. And I haven’t been able to reach him all day. I hate to bethatgirl, and I know I’m totally being her, but is he okay?”

“I’m not sure, sweetheart. He hasn’t been here all day.”

“Oh. Oh no. Do you think he’s hurt? Maybe he was in an accident? Should we go look for him? He could be lying on the side of the road—”

“Quinn, hun?”

“Yeah?”

“He switched departments this morning.”