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her phone away and sitting up straighter.

“Nothing,” I snapped back at Holm.

“Come on, tell me,” Olivia urged him. “I can tell there’s a story here.”

“There is.” Holm smirked.

“Yeah.” I glared back at him through the rear-view mirror. “And there are plenty of stories I could tell you about Robbie Holm, too.”

We spent the next twenty minutes bickering good-naturedly, and before I knew it, we were already back at the Kew Town police station.

I felt as though I was walking into enemy territory as we stepped back into the station. We’d suspected from the beginning that there was something sketchy about Turner, but now that Morris had confirmed that the man couldn’t be trusted, I felt all the more anxious being in here. Who knew just how many of these armed officers were secretly working in cahoots with the traffickers?

The same officer who’d kindly given us Frank’s background information stared up at us in surprise as soon as we walked in.

“Oh, hello…” he muttered nervously before glancing back toward the corridor that led into the rest of the station. “Can I help you?”

“We need to speak to Frank Johnson,” I replied sternly.

The officer’s face paled at my words.

“I don’t think that will be possible,” he replied. He looked around again before beckoning us forward with his hand.

I exchanged a look of trepidation with Holm before moving toward the man, my hand ready at my side to draw my weapon if necessary.

“The captain had arranged to move that inmate to a new location,” he hissed at me.

“He’s what?!” I snapped.

“Shhh!” He urged me to keep it down. “You did not hear this from me, okay?”

He stared at us as if waiting for confirmation that we would keep quiet about whatever he was about to say.

“Yes, fine,” Olivia replied hastily. “What is it?”

“The captain had been furious ever since you left yesterday,” he informed us. “I overheard him speaking on the phone. He was saying he was going to move Johnson somewhere else so you would not be able to speak with him again. He told us that he was being moved to a different police station, but I know that this is a lie.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“The closest police station is the one in Grace Bay,” he explained. “My cousin is an officer there. I asked him out of curiosity, but he claimed he did not know what I was talking about.”

“Morris would have told us if that was the case,” Holm remarked.

“Why are you telling us this?” Olivia asked him warily. She must have been suspicious after what Morris had told us about Turner, and potentially his men, being corrupt.

“Officer Carson is my friend,” he replied. “I know that what the captain is saying about you being responsible for his injury is a lie. There are still good police left in Kew, even if some people, like the captain, do not see it that way.”

“I believe you,” I assured him. He’d helped us out before, and even now, he seemed genuine. “Is Frank still here?”

As if to answer my question, the sound of several pairs of footsteps suddenly emerged from the corridor. I turned to find Frank Johnson walking toward us, escorted on either side by a police officer. Captain Turner was walking just a few steps behind them, the smug smile on his face slipping as soon as he looked up and spotted us.

“What are you doing here?” he growled angrily.

“We could ask you the same question,” I retorted. “What exactly do you think you’re doing with our suspect?”

“I’m having him transferred,” he spat, his voice trembling slightly. “To a different station.”

“Right,” I bit back sarcastically. Obviously, he intended to stick to the weak story he’d fed to the front desk officer. “On whose authority?”

“On my own authority,” he snarled, squaring his shoulder and jutting out his chin. It was an aggressive, combative stance, and I knew he was on the verge of physically attacking us. “This is my island. I don’t answer to the likes of you!”

“You don’t have to,” Olivia interjected calmly. “In fact, we’re here to help you.”

Turner and I both turned to look at her in surprise. Turner’s expression was an odd mix of confusion and distrust.

“As a matter of fact,” she continued, “we just got through speaking with Captain Morris down at the Grace Bay station. I’m assuming that’s the station you were planning on transferring Johnson to, is that correct?”

As soon as she finished speaking, Turner’s jaw fell slack in surprise.

“I… th-that’s,” he stuttered as he attempted to come up with some reasonable excuse. “No. That’s incorrect. He’s being transferred to a different station.”

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s weird. The Grace Bay station is the closest one, isn’t it? Why would you go through the trouble of sending him somewhere else?”

“That’s none of your concern!” he snapped at me, spittle flying from his mouth as he spoke.

“Actually, it is,” I corrected him. “Johnson is our suspect. Do you think you’re slick? You’re interfering in a federal investigation.”

“Which is why,” Olivia cut in again, “we’ll be happy to transport him over to Grace Bay for you. He’ll be out of your hair, and we’ll have our suspect. And everyone is happy.”

She was smiling, but the tone was anything but pleasant. It was obvious to everyone listening that it was closer to a threat than a request.

“I don’t need your help!” he sneered.

“Well, we weren’t really asking for your input,” I retorted as I took a step closer to him. “And unless you want us to start spilling all of your secrets, I’d suggest you stand down.”

Of course, we didn’t have much in the way of dirt on him aside from some flimsy rumors, but I was willing to bet that Turner had been involved in enough shady stuff that he’d end up filling the blanks for me.

“Is that a threat?” he growled. He was scowling, but I could see a hint of fear in his eyes.

“Yes. It is,” I

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