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Turn The Music Up: NF
"I didn't think Lana would find someone to cover her shift this late in the game. I guess I should've figured on the Miles factor." I inquire as we walk towards the front door.
Miles scoffs. "Well, it sounded like she was having her own crisis over Jensen's history exam."
"Thank you guys for coming." Pete tells us.
"Pete, I think it's great that you spend so much time volunteering here." I pat his shoulder and nod.
"Well, someone's always been there for me when I've been in trouble. Seems like a good way to give something back."
"Hi, Pete." A girl says from behind us and Pete smiles in response.
"And to hone your sensitive guy skills." I deadpan and the phone rings.
"Watch and learn, Bri. Teen Crisis Hotline." Pete answers the phone. "Uh-huh. Well, how long has it been since they've been divorced? Yeah, I know. That can be tough. Well, have you talked to them about it?"
"Hello?" Miles now answers his ringing phone.
"Yeah." He nods, still on the phone.
"Teen Crisis Hotline. Lana." He gapes.
"What's wrong?" I panic.
"Lana?" He furrows his eyebrows. "Lana? Lana, what...Lana? Lana! Lana! Lana, can you hear me? Lana!" He now stands up.
"Pete, call the police!" I leave with Miles.
And when we got to the Talon, Lana was fine. Which makes no fucking sense by the way.
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"Please help me!" Lana shouts through the tape as we listen to it.
"Lana? Lana!" Miles says.
I now hear a gunshot. "The call came from a blocked ID." I turn off the tape.
"Sounds like your voice, Miss Lang." Adams inquires.
"I know. But it can't be." Lana shakes her head.
"We think it's some sort of a prank, Sheriff." Miles nods.
"You know, usually these situations originate a little closer to home than you'd expect. Any reason you might wanna goose your friends with a little crank call, Miss Lang?" Adams questions.
"Lana didn't have anything to do with this." I tell her.
"You know, unless Miss Lang has grown four inches and developed an affinity for black, this would be a good time for you to pipe down until after."
