Prohibited (Tulsa City Sinners #1)

27. Roberts

Chapter twenty-seven

Roberts

Where were his goddamn Papoid tablets? Roberts rummaged through his pockets, cursing himself for losing them and cursing the burn in his chest that would not abate no matter what he did these days. At the urging of his doctor, he ate the Papoid tablets like they were candy and, still, indigestion was constantly plaguing him.

Stress.

It was stress.

Roberts was a busy man. Being a cop was no easy life. He saw murdered kids, mutilated women, men shot to death in cold blood, suicides. All the most gruesome stuff a person could imagine walking around inside of his mind.

But none of it came close to the stress that Walter Stanley had brought into his life.

He went to sleep at night and woke up in the morning cursing the day he ever even heard his name. And now there was nothing he could do. Walter Stanley was good friends with the Chief. With the Mayor. With everyone who mattered. He was a smooth talking, cool character who had a way with people. Never mind that there were hard working guys like Roberts in the world who busted their asses sun up to down and never made it an inch further.

Then some guy like Walter Stanley could waltz in and for some reason everyone fell all over themselves to get connected with him. The men wanted to rub elbows with him. And the ladies wanted to rub, well… other things.

The burn in Roberts’ stomach intensified as his mood continued to sour.

“Aha,” he said as his groping fingers found the package of tablets between his feet on the floor of his car. With shaking fingers he dropped some into his palm and popped them into his mouth, chewing the chalky things and grimacing at the texture.

With a sigh he kicked the door of his car open, grimacing at the sunlight. It was already so hot that he was sweating. The air was sticky. Oppressive. He tugged at the collar of his shirt as he walked from his car to the precinct, squinting his eyes as he went.

God, he was an idiot for not taking a nip out of the bottle this morning on his way out the door. It would have made today that much more bearable. The whole walk down the corridor to his desk filled him with dread as he stared down the long barrel of a day at his desk, making and receiving calls on the telephone, filling out paperwork, supervising morons, and… dealing with Walter Stanley .

He snapped at his secretary to bring him a cup of coffee, two sugars, and was just in the process of removing his suit coat when the phone on his desk rang.

He froze.

It could be anyone. Anyone at all calling him at seven o’clock in the morning.

But somehow he already knew who it was as he reached for the phone with shaking hands. He lifted the ear piece from the cradle and placed it against his ear.

“Roberts,” said Stanley on the other end of the line.

Roberts did his best not to heave a sigh. “Stanley.”

“She’s gone,” Stanley said in a voice that betrayed an unusually bad temper.

“Who’s gone?” Roberts said, though he had an inkling.

“The redhead,” Stanley said impatiently.

“What do you mean, she’s gone?” Roberts said. Frankly, he was astonished that she was still alive.

“Roberts,” Stanley said slowly, coldly. “Do you require me to spell it out? She was here last night and now she’s gone. She’s escaped.” He spat out the last word.

Roberts slowly sank into his chair. He didn’t want to know what the hell Stanley had been keeping her for the last couple of days. He had frankly assumed that Stanley had finished with her and disposed of her. Good God. The puff of relief he felt as he processed the fact that she had somehow managed to escape Walter Stanley was very gratifying. And then guilt started to spill through him.

If he had known, maybe he could have– He should have helped her .

One more regret to add to the pile.

“What am I to do with it?” Roberts snapped, something he rarely dared to do with Walter Stanley.

“Find her,” Stanley said in that quiet, cold voice of his that was more terrifying than any roar. “And get her idiot brother and his idiot cousin out into the open. I don’t care what you have to do. Take them into custody. Keep their names off of the books. Once you have them, I will take them into my custody.”

Roberts swallowed hard.

“Do you understand me, Roberts?” Stanley said.

“Yes.”

“Good.” The line went dead.

Slowly, Roberts let out a breath and returned the phone to his desk.

One thing was certain, he was not going to find that girl and give her back to Walter Stanley.

But he did want to find Evelyn and he didn’t give a shit about the Lockwood brothers.

Brother.

Roberts leaned back in his chair, lacing his hands over his stomach, and began to hatch a plan.

Come to think of it, he had a favor to call in.