I said, although the “please” was hardly polite. It sounded more like Right away, dammit! I couldn’t help it. Not that it changed the officer’s answer on the other end of the phone. “He’s off duty, do you want his voice mail?” No, I want his actual voice. I stared down again at the business card Lamont had given me, even flipping it over twice, as if somehow that would make his cell phone number magically appear. It wasn’t printed on the card. “Is there a way you can reach him for me?” I asked. “It’s important.” “Oh, wait a minute,” said the officer, his voice trailing off as if he were reaching for something. “There’s a note here. Are you Trevor Mann?” “Yes.” “Hold on a second.” It was more like thirty seconds, but I hardly cared so long as the next voice I heard was Lamont’s.
