“I didn’t recognize the number and nearly didn’t answer, but at the last moment, I flipped the cell open. “Jane Yellowrock.” “Sloan Rosen,” he said. I looked at the number and filed it to memory. “Jodi would have my balls if she knew I was calling you. But have you heard from Rick?” “No. Not since . . . Tuesday? Wednesday? The day he went back undercover, if I’m guessing right, which also requires an underlying guess—that he was undercover with the were-cats in the first place. Not that I was in...formed.” “You didn’t hear that from me. And you didn’t hear this either. He was supposed to check in twice a day and it’s been well over twenty-four hours. If you hear from him, make sure he checks in. I’m starting to worry.” I sat up in bed and pushed hair back from my face. “I will.” “No connection” appeared on the screen and I stared at the phone for a moment, dread growing in my chest. Sloan Rosen had no reason to call me. We weren’t buddies. And his excuse, “If you hear from him, make sure he checks in,”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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