Tolerance Book III

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Five: Unforeseen

Parking Lot - Mollys' Bar

Jay took a deep breath of fresh air as he exited the busy venue. Heading for his vehicle he was surprised to see Arnott waiting beside it.

"I'm sorry about that."
"You have nothing to apologise for."
"Sarge tends to see things in black and white."
"He's been in this job long enough to know we mostly operate in the grey areas," the tall man opined shaking his head in disgust.
"No arguments from me," Jay stated candidly, he was still reeling from the Sergeants' words, "I don't blame you for changing your mind."
"No hard feelings?"
"None whatsoever," the younger man offered a hand solemnly.
"Good," Arnitt returned the firm handshake, "that's all I wanted to hear."

Jay watched Arnott head towards his car with a heavy sigh. Voight had just torpedoed their best shot of getting the Williams' investigation under their jurisdiction. Glancing at his watch he realized he needed to hurry if he didn't want Tommy to be waiting. He sent a short text advising him he was on the way.

21st Precinct

Later that night Voight sat with Al in his office. The bullpen was in darkness. The other men having long since left. The Sergeant had explained how the meeting with Arnott had gone. True to form the moustached man offered little sympathy.

"From what you've told me Arnott was being helpful so why on earth did you malign his Captains' character?"
"I didn't," Voight defended but only half heartedly, he knew he had made a mess of things.
"Hell Hank you're never going to win any awards for tact but even for you this is ..... bad," Al was thinking about Jay, the young Detective would feel responsible.
"Well ...," whatever the Sergeant was going to say was halted by Als' cell ringing and the man in question frowning as he eyed the Caller ID.
"Hey Tommy what's up? No .... not since earlier. How did dinner go?"
Als' question clearly was not answered to his liking as the Detective suddenly stood up motioning for his old friend to do likewise, "hang on Tommy. It will take us about twenty minutes to get there. Don't worry we'll find him."

As Al led the way at a sprint towards the SUV he quickly explained Jay had failed to turn up for dinner despite sending a text confirming he was on the way. That had been hours ago. Tommy hadn't wanted to put pressure on the green eyed man but eventually phoned only to keep getting through to voicemail.

Hotel

To say Tommy was distraught would have been a gross understatement. He was chastising himself for not contacting Al earlier. The moustached Detective placed a firm hand on the hunched shoulder of the blonde and spoke sincerely.

"You couldn't have known anything was wrong. Whatever happened was not because of anything you did or didn't do. Take it from me Jay wouldn't want you blaming yourself."
"Right I've got Dawson and Atwater going through the surveillance footage from Mollys," Voight explained as he walked over to the pair after putting away his cell phone then continued grimly knowing the news he had to impart would be hard to hear, "they found his vehicle .... and his cell ...,"
"Okay so we know where he was taken from," Al noted evenly, he could not betray his turmoil in front of the distressed young man, "Mouse at the 21st?"
"Yeah reckon we should head out ...,"
"I want to go too," Tommy pleaded, the thought of staying alone in the empty hotel room was not appealing.
"You ...," Voight was about to explain why that was a bad idea but was summarily cut off by his oldest friend.
"... can come with us no problem. You pack up a few of those books Jay bought you. Police work involves a lot of waiting. Reading will help you pass the time."
"Great! Won't take long," Tommy headed off in search of the small backpack the green eyed man had bought him the day before.
"You think this is a good idea?" Voight demanded as soon as the blonde was out of earshot.
"He shouldn't be alone. Especially not when he's blaming himself over Jay. You want to be the one explaining to the Kid why we didn't look after him?"
"Good point," the Sergeant acknowledged ruefully then asked gravely, "how much trouble do you think Halstead is in?"
"A lot."