A long moment of silence, and then… “No, it doesn’t.” But Damon didn’t sound relieved like Micah thought he might have. His voice was still stressed. “Thank you,” he added begrudgingly, though he didn’t sound nearly as grateful as he ought to have in Micah’s opinion, considering he’d just inadvertently called Tessa a corrupt pig.

“So you are in possession of some manners, after all.” Clearly Dolores hadn’t forgiven him for the slight, nor the insult to her moral compass by attempting to bribe her. “If that is all, I think it’s time you left – before you cause even more of a scene.”

But when Micah dared to peek around the plant he was hiding behind, it was clear he hadn’t left. In fact, Damon hadn’t seemed to have acknowledged Dolores at all. His attention remained focused on Tessa as he seemed to identify her as the more useful of the two. Or, at least, more sympathetic to his plight.

“How long do you have to wait to report a missing person?” he asked.

Micah felt his stomach drop.

Seriously?

It took a second for Tessa to answer, and although she sounded casual enough when she did, Micah knew she was choosing her words carefully. “Despite what you might have heard on tv, there is no obligatory waiting period. How long has this person been missing?”

Damon huffed, and though he couldn’t see clearly through the glass, Micah thought he saw him running an agitated hand down his face. “Three days?”

“You don’t sound very sure about that.”

A pause. Then, more forcefully: “Three. Days.”

“And has this individual been answering their phone?”

Another pause. “I’m not sure.”

Tessa must have been making some sort of dubious expression because after a moment, Damon reluctantly added, “I don’t have his number.”

“Uh-huh. And have you been by his place of residence?”

“I… don’t know where he lives.”

“Is this some sort of joke?” Dolores interrupted, apparently unable to hold her tongue any longer.

“It’s this precinct that’s a joke,” Damon spat, whipping around to face the old woman and abandoning the strained politeness with which he spoke to Tessa. “You are utterly useless. Every single one of you.”

“Hey, now-!”

“I’ll find him on my own, and when I do, you had better hope my… friend,” he decided on after a moment, “is in one piece. Because if he’s not, I promise you, this worthless precinct will pay for every little scratch on him, no matter how miniscule, with its own blood.”

Micah hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until Damon finally turned and stalked out of the building.

Had the past ten minutes really just happened?

Replaying Damon’s parting words in his mind, Micah felt his chest tighten with something akin to panic. Had the man really just threatened a building full of cops? Micah’s co-workers?

Micah wasn’t a terribly common name. What if Dolores somehow connected the dots between Micah’s stint as an undercover prostitute and Damon’s visit to the precinct? What if she told Jensen? Worse, what if she told the captain?