Chief Ramsey towers over me, unsmiling, arms folded across his chest. This is not the man who laughed at ghost stories on Christmas Eve. Neither is he the man who shared his memories of my mother mere days ago.
This is a man who may pull out his handcuffs and slap them on my wrists. He has a fierce look about him, a mix of disappointment and something I can’t name. He takes deliberate steps and stops when the toe of his boot bumps against my phone. He leans down and picks it up.
“I thought I told you to call me.”
He hands the phone to me and I tuck it into my pocket. Beneath his glower, I can do little more than swallow hard and nod. The urge to turn from him nearly overwhelms me. I want to track the EMTs’ progress with Malcolm, make sure he’s okay. I don’t dare, not even when something
