Will leaned across Sorensen’s desk for her phone. “I don’t believe this,” she muttered, watching him answer. “Now he’s calling you here?”
“He filed a report,” Will reminded her. With the receiver to his ear, he clicked on the blinking line. “Detective Moore here. Is this Corey?”
Corey’s warm laugh curled through him, raising the ghost of a smile to Will’s face. “How’d you guess?”
“How many other guys do you think have this number?”
Beside him, Sorensen cleared her throat, a pissy sound that reminded him he wasn’t alone. “Listen,” he said, turning serious. “I’m sort of in a meeting here. Can I call you back?”
Corey sighed, a defeated sound that told Will he hadn’t just called to chat. “That bastard beat up another one of my boys last night.”
Shit.
9