Hollow Grace

ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ - ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

Charlie hadn't quite grasped what was happening. He and Barebone were handcuffed and quickly escorted out of the warehouse building into separate cars. All the young man saw was three police cars and a couple of officers in uniform. All the other people encountered along the way were in civilian. From the few phrases he caught from their conversations, Wright understood that an operation to catch drug dealers was supposed to take place here.

Judging by the fact that he got caught, the operation was almost successful.

The road to the warehouse seemed like an eternity. The road to the police station flew by in a moment. Charlie hadn't prepared for the future conversation, hadn't come up with any plan. He tried to figure out where he was being taken, assuming it would be the police in Clargan. This would buy him a little time and his parents wouldn't find out about it for a little longer. But when the car stopped at the police station in Amber Hill, Wright realized he was in deeper trouble than he thought. His relationship with the local law enforcement was already seriously damaged, and to expect mercy from them was like waiting for snow in California.

"Come on, Joker, no tricks," the officer said, leading Charlie out of the car into the yard. "Walk. Sean! Take that Pennywise straight to interrogation!"

"Roger that, sir."

Charlie was led into the police building. Since he was already neck-deep in trouble, he didn't even try to run, be rude, or take any action other than obeying police orders. Inside, it was surprisingly quiet for this night, not a single troublemaker had yet managed to get caught by the patrol. Obviously, all the fun had moved to Oferton, to the carnival. Carnival...

Evan must have left him a bunch of messages. And the calls he didn't answer are driving him crazy right now.

Charlie scratched his wrists bitterly and angrily at himself, frantically thinking about what to do next. No one would believe his words that he was there by accident. And if he cooperates with the police, he won't live until the end of the week. Boss will find a way to kill the snitch, despite the fact that the main snitch sold him to another gang.

"Empty your pockets," the officer said, removing the handcuffs and placing a tray in front of Charlie. The latter obediently emptied the contents of his pockets. Phone, keys, cigarettes and lighter, chewing gum. He thought for a moment, squeezing the knife handle, but decided not to risk it - the police could check his pockets themselves anyway. The officer recorded everything Charlie gave him, took the tray with things and handed it to the storage. He himself led the guy to the cell.

Besides Charlie, there was a drunk man, peacefully dozing on the bench. He did not react in any way to the appearance of a new neighbor, and continued to sleep.

"And where did you put him? He's a teenager," the duty officer said to his colleague. The latter looked at Charlie in confusion, trying to figure out how old he was.

"Really?

"Look at him, he's just a kid."

"The Sheriff will come now and figure out what to do with him, nothing will happen to the little one in five minutes."

Charlie snorted and crouched in the corner of the cell. Just for such an occasion, they were ordered not to take personal belongings on the job. Luckily, his ID was left at home, but his name wouldn't remain a secret for long. A few minutes later, Sheriff Eric Lancaster entered the police station – a tall, broad-shouldered man of about forty-five. His jacket and trousers were stained with blood, and judging by his foul mood, the blood was not fake. The man didn't waste time correcting his appearance and immediately got down to business.

"Report, Flitz."

"Everything went off the plan. Farrow came not alone, according to him, there were three more accomplices. Two escaped, one was delivered here. Just right now."