The Innocent: The New Ryan Lock Novel Read Free Page B

kind of pissing contest. When Malik had suggested that he talk to the players who had been at the party, Tromso had shot him down, making a big deal of how he was the law, not Malik. The guy was a grade-A asshole.
    But all that said, Malik was still glad to see him, and he was impressed by Tromso’s reaction to the incident. For a start, he seemed to grasp the potential gravity of what Malik had found.
    ‘You said you got a picture of the car?’ Tromso asked, as the younger cop waited with the kid while a female officer was summoned.
    Malik nodded and pulled out his cell phone. Tromso took it from him and studied the grainy image.
    ‘Outstanding, Coach! You got the plate and everything. Y’know, most people wouldn’t think to take a picture.’
    ‘You have any idea whose car it is?’ Malik asked.
    ‘No, but we’ll find them,’ said Tromso.
    As he’d handed over his cell phone, Malik had caught sight of the time. It was after one in the morning. Kim would be worried if she had woken up and found him gone.
    ‘Listen, Chief, if you don’t mind, I have a game tomorrow.’
    ‘Right, of course. Go Wolves,’ said Tromso, in a way that undid whatever improved feelings Malik had for him. Tromso held up the cell. ‘I’m going to need to copy this. Do you mind if I keep a hold of it?’
    Malik grimaced. ‘I kind of need it for work.’
    ‘I’ll drop it back first thing. You’re on Beech Avenue, right? I’ll be able to bring you up to speed on what we’ve found out too,’ Tromso said, with a nod to the locker room.
    ‘Sure,’ said Malik. ‘I guess that’s okay.’
    ‘Appreciate it,’ said Tromso, slapping Malik on the back. ‘Now, I know I probably don’t even need to mention this to a man like yourself, but don’t go talking to anyone about it. Y’know, live investigation and everything.’
    From his brief time as a pro ball player, Malik had come to trust cops as much as reporters. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said.
    Tromso smiled. ‘Knew I could count on you.’

Five
    Malik didn’t get to sleep until sometime after four, and even then, he kept waking up. He was thinking about the boy he’d found in the visitors’ locker room, after midnight, soaking wet from the shower. More than anything he couldn’t shift from his mind the look on the boy’s face when he’d found him. A mixture of sadness, shame and fear.
    He tried to tell himself that, while there might not be a completely innocent explanation for what he’d discovered, it wasn’t necessarily what he thought it was. But what else could it have been? If it had been innocent, why had whoever was with the boy, the person in the grey sedan, hightailed it out of there? If someone had been showing the kid around the stadium, or sneaking in to shoot some hoops, why had they fled? Running away was hardly the action of someone who had nothing to hide.
    But, then, what if they had stuck around? Malik didn’t want to contemplate what might have happened. If someone had been messing with the kid, he already knew what he would have done. Right now, he wouldn’t be back home, lying in bed next to his wife. He’d be cooling his heels in a cell, waiting to see if he could make bail on a homicide charge.
    Worse, he thought, what if he hadn’t walked in? What if he hadn’t gotten that text? What if he hadn’t seen it until the morning? And, while he was at it, who was to say that he’d just happened to stumble in on something that wasn’t a one-off? What if someone was using the locker rooms as— Well, he didn’t want to think about what they might have been using them for, but what if this was part of a pattern?
    He tried to comfort himself with the fact that it had to be pretty easy for the cops to work out who had been there. He had given them a picture of the car, complete with the plate. There had been no sign of forced entry, so it had to have been someone who had access to the stadium after hours. That had to be a pretty short list.
    It would