Fish tries the door to the Basement again. "It's locked."
"What? Are you sure?" Del reaches by him, tries the knob himself. Definitely locked. He rubs a hand down his thigh before a slow grin spreads over his face. He laughs, claps Fish on the shoulder. "Looks like we're off the hook for the weekend, Sargeant."
Fish frowns. "What are you talking about?"
"She's torturing Tick." Evil brotherly glee lights Del's dark eyes. "Wonder what's going on in there, anyway?"
Saturday, June 02, 2007
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The following message was recorded at 5:56pm:
"Um, yeah. I have no idea if this is the right number or not, but WTF, here goes.
My names's Sullivan, and I'm looking for a friend of mine. Tall, blond a little on the obnoxious side. Definitely doesn't like cops. Um, I have a sinking suspicion he might be in your basement, and if so, there could be trouble. If you know anything about this, can you call me? Starting to get a little worried over here."
click
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