Read Online The Seventh Sons (Sycamore Moon Series Book 1) by Domino Finn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Domino Finn
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who no longer took risks because the only thing he considered was what he could lose. But he did sound convincing.
"And it still won't get you Lola back," he added.
Lola. Maxim didn't delude himself—he knew they had been having problems. Things hadn't been perfect, but the hope of better times, the chance to right wrongs, was no longer afforded to him. It was almost enough to make a man lose himself.
Maxim kept his head down. "Is it weird that I still feel like an outsider in my own town? Without her, I have no sense of permanence. I have no real ties to Sanctuary."
Hitchens had no answer.
The droning air conditioner only served to remind Maxim of what little effect it was having. Beads of sweat invaded his buttoned white shirt. He needed to get his mind focused on work.
The detective opened his eyes and stared at the list of names on the paper in his hand. Maybe they were suspects, maybe they were wolves; the main thing was that they were a list of people to find and interview. While this new path he was on was actively discouraged, for the first time since Lola went missing, he felt free of invisible chains.
Maxim handed the paper to the sergeant. "This is a full list of the Seventh Sons membership."
Hitchens raised his eyebrows and counted down the names. "She humored you, you know that?" Maxim watched the man's eyes as he scanned the list, seeing if there was any recognition, but Hitchens didn't seem surprised by anything he saw. "Still, can't say I'm not impressed you got her to do that much."
A muffled discourse from the marshal's office interrupted the men. That's when Maxim noticed that the door was closed, and he looked to the sergeant with an inquisitive glance.
"Don't ask," said Hitchens, "because I'm willing to bet that your turn is next. Still, you should see the piece of work that he's talking to in there."
The back wall of the main office was made up of heavy brick and was the original boundary of the building; the small office and interrogation room had been added in more recent years. There was a window next to the door pane, but the old glass was yellowed with age, and the door was not meant to be transparent. Maxim stubbornly eyed the cloudy silhouettes as he always did, but he could never glean what transpired within.
The sergeant explained. "The prissiest, whitest Indian girl I've ever seen walks up in here like she owns the place, doesn't even look at me, storms in his office, and slams the door. They've been in there for over an hour now."
Maxim raised his eyebrows. "You don't think they're going at it, do you?" The detective swiveled his chair around to face Hitchens and said, "You might have to arrest her for sexual conduct with a minor."
Hitchens erupted into laughter and covered his mouth to muffle his mirth. Instead, the man succeeded in making awkward hissing noises as the air escaped his lips. "Now you leave that boy alone. He's not all that bad."
"Not that bad?" asked Maxim. "Mayor Boyd appoints his son as Marshal Boyd when he's half your age, and you think that's fair?"
The sergeant shook his head back and forth slowly despite Maxim's reasoning. "Your problem is you think you have a say in these things. Trust me, you don't want that job."
"I didn't say that I wanted it, just that I could do it better. But what about you? You've been here longer than anyone except for Cole."
The sergeant leaned in to whisper. "No way would I want to juggle the things that are thrown his way. That boy is probably nose-deep in government ass right now." The man made a ring with his fingers and fitted them around his lips to get the point across, then reclined with a boisterous smile. "Although, I might not mind it with this particular government ass. You'll see. You should take a shot at her when she comes out. Might do you some good."
Great, another dating conversation from the guys at the station. Women were complicated enough on their own. He didn't care to get them tangled into his work.
"And it still won't get you Lola back," he added.
Lola. Maxim didn't delude himself—he knew they had been having problems. Things hadn't been perfect, but the hope of better times, the chance to right wrongs, was no longer afforded to him. It was almost enough to make a man lose himself.
Maxim kept his head down. "Is it weird that I still feel like an outsider in my own town? Without her, I have no sense of permanence. I have no real ties to Sanctuary."
Hitchens had no answer.
The droning air conditioner only served to remind Maxim of what little effect it was having. Beads of sweat invaded his buttoned white shirt. He needed to get his mind focused on work.
The detective opened his eyes and stared at the list of names on the paper in his hand. Maybe they were suspects, maybe they were wolves; the main thing was that they were a list of people to find and interview. While this new path he was on was actively discouraged, for the first time since Lola went missing, he felt free of invisible chains.
Maxim handed the paper to the sergeant. "This is a full list of the Seventh Sons membership."
Hitchens raised his eyebrows and counted down the names. "She humored you, you know that?" Maxim watched the man's eyes as he scanned the list, seeing if there was any recognition, but Hitchens didn't seem surprised by anything he saw. "Still, can't say I'm not impressed you got her to do that much."
A muffled discourse from the marshal's office interrupted the men. That's when Maxim noticed that the door was closed, and he looked to the sergeant with an inquisitive glance.
"Don't ask," said Hitchens, "because I'm willing to bet that your turn is next. Still, you should see the piece of work that he's talking to in there."
The back wall of the main office was made up of heavy brick and was the original boundary of the building; the small office and interrogation room had been added in more recent years. There was a window next to the door pane, but the old glass was yellowed with age, and the door was not meant to be transparent. Maxim stubbornly eyed the cloudy silhouettes as he always did, but he could never glean what transpired within.
The sergeant explained. "The prissiest, whitest Indian girl I've ever seen walks up in here like she owns the place, doesn't even look at me, storms in his office, and slams the door. They've been in there for over an hour now."
Maxim raised his eyebrows. "You don't think they're going at it, do you?" The detective swiveled his chair around to face Hitchens and said, "You might have to arrest her for sexual conduct with a minor."
Hitchens erupted into laughter and covered his mouth to muffle his mirth. Instead, the man succeeded in making awkward hissing noises as the air escaped his lips. "Now you leave that boy alone. He's not all that bad."
"Not that bad?" asked Maxim. "Mayor Boyd appoints his son as Marshal Boyd when he's half your age, and you think that's fair?"
The sergeant shook his head back and forth slowly despite Maxim's reasoning. "Your problem is you think you have a say in these things. Trust me, you don't want that job."
"I didn't say that I wanted it, just that I could do it better. But what about you? You've been here longer than anyone except for Cole."
The sergeant leaned in to whisper. "No way would I want to juggle the things that are thrown his way. That boy is probably nose-deep in government ass right now." The man made a ring with his fingers and fitted them around his lips to get the point across, then reclined with a boisterous smile. "Although, I might not mind it with this particular government ass. You'll see. You should take a shot at her when she comes out. Might do you some good."
Great, another dating conversation from the guys at the station. Women were complicated enough on their own. He didn't care to get them tangled into his work.
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