Iron Hearts by Slivka Emilee Ann

Author:Slivka, Emilee Ann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2023-06-01T00:00:00+00:00

Ratchet: We got video of the break in, going to the police station with Cunningham, how’s Sydney?

Blaze: Drinking wine with Evie. Ollie is asleep with Ashlyn.

Ratchet: Thanks.

Blaze: Anytime.

Ratchet blew out a slow breath as he locked his truck and followed Cunningham into the police station. He was exhausted, but wired. It was well past midnight and his eyes were burning.

Inside the station, they walked through the door and immediately went into Jones’s office. The man was waiting and Cunningham handed over the USB. The men crowded around the computer monitor as Jones pulled up the footage.

The video showed the parking lot to the left of Sydney’s apartment. It covered enough of the space to show the side of Ratchet’s truck. It was dark and shadowed as Jones hit fast forward. Nothing happened for several minutes. They could see the shine of headlights on the asphalt as cars passed the complex, but no cars entering the lot. A minute later, a dark figure stepped into the frame and Jones hit play.

The figure was dressed in black with a hood pulled up over its head and crossed behind Ratchet’s truck. They disappeared from the frame.

A moment later, the figure was sprinting back into the frame and disappeared.

“I never saw the car,” Ratchet said. “It took me about three seconds to get downstairs and outside. How could they have been that fast?”

“They must’ve parked down the block.” Cunningham said. “They probably cut the lights and left it running, sprinted out of the lot, and sped away.”

“Fuck,” Ratchet swore as Jones rewound the footage and played it back a second time in slow motion.

Ratchet watched the figure as it passed the truck, his brows pulling together in concentration.

“They’re short,” he muttered.

“What do you mean?” Jones asked, glancing up at Ratchet.

He leaned forward, rewound again, and paused just as the figure was behind his truck.

“My truck bed comes up to here on me.” He indicated mid-chest. “I’m six-two. On them, the tailgate comes up to almost shoulder height.”

He pointed to the screen to show what he meant. “They’ve gotta be less than six feet tall, maybe even shorter.”

“Great. That’s most of the population.” Cunningham rolled his eyes.

“How tall are you, Cunningham?” Ratchet asked, crossing his arms and glaring down at the officer.

“Five-eleven,” he muttered.

“Huh,” Ratchet huffed. “Interesting.”

“Okay, gentlemen, let’s keep it civil,” Jones said in warning.

“Did you get anything from other neighbors?” Ratchet asked, but the men shook their heads.

He sighed heavily. “Okay. I’m going home to check on Sydney and Ollie. Call me if you come up with anything else. I don’t care what time it is.”

Jones and Cunningham agreed, and Ratchet sped to the compound.

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