Coop’s eyes fixed on me like a hawk tracking its prey when I entered the police station the following morning. I pretended I didn’t notice and made a beeline for Chief Sheppard’s office before Coop had the chance to intercept me. I walked into Sheppard’s office and found him sitting behind his desk, picking at a chef’s salad with a fork.
He eyeballed the salad with a look of disdain and said, “Never been fond of rabbit food.”
“Then why do you eat it?”
He grabbed at some nonexistent flab on the side of his abdomen and said, “I plan to lose five pounds before the St. George Marathon next month so I’m in tip-top condition for the race.”
“You came in third last year, didn’t you?”
“I did. This year I intend to come in first.” He pushed the plate of salad to the side and gestured at the chair opposite him. I sat down. For a middle-aged man, he had a toned physique and a youthful look; he could easily pass for a man in his thirties. His wavy, full head of hair reminded me of a Chia Pet. I imagined if he trimmed it back, he’d shed five pounds right there.
“What brings you in this morning?” he asked.
“I need to talk to you about Ernest and Judy Barlow.”
“Rebecca Barlow’s parents? What about them?”
I took a deep breath in. “They, ahh … they hired me this morning.”
“They hired you? Why?”
“They want me to look into the death of their daughter.”
Sheppard blinked several times, like he was waiting for me to say I was bluffing. I crossed my arms and wondered what would happen when he realized I wasn’t. Some time ago, Sheppard had suggested I’d make a fine cop, and while I was flattered he’d suggested it, I didn’t want to be a cop or a detective—not one who played by the rules of others instead of my own.
“Am I missing something here?” Sheppard asked.
“I don’t believe so.”
“Then explain to me why the Barlow family hired you to look into a case we’re in the middle of investigating?”
“To get a fresh perspective from someone who isn’t affiliated with the police department, I guess.”
He cocked his head to the side, displeased with my answer. “You guess? What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m not sure they see eye to eye with Coop’s current assessment of their daughter’s case.”
Sheppard threw his hands in the air. “No one sees eye to eye with Coop. Doesn’t mean he’s not good at what he does.”
“I never said he wasn’t.”
“Since when do you handle this kind of investigation anyway?”
“Since today.”
“Seems to me they don’t understand how the process works. These things take time. It’s not our fault they’re impatient.” He leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head. “I want you to tell them you can’t do it. You can’t take the case, all right?”
No, it wasn’t all right.
I came to Sheppard to give him a heads-up, a courtesy I’d extended because we’d always gotten along in the past. Now I regretted my decision.
“Ernest Barlow dropped a check off at my office this morning,” I said. “I accepted it, and I agreed to look into their daughter’s death. If I learn anything new, anything you don’t know, I’ll tell you.”
“You won’t.”
“Sorry?”
“Never mind. We’re done here.”
“Come on, Sheppard. I don’t want animosity between us over this case. I respect you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”
Sheppard aimed a finger at the office door. “I suggest you get outta here before I say something I might regret.”
“If you could just try to understand what I’m—”
“Out, Sloane. You’ve told me what you came to tell me. I have other work to attend to today. This conversation is over.”
I left Sheppard’s office and realized our conversation had drawn a small crowd in the hallway. I avoided all eye contact and speed-walked toward the station’s front door.
Why had I convinced myself he’d understand?
Of course, he wouldn’t.
I’d just delivered a swift blow to his ego.
I made it out the front door unscathed and without incident. Or I thought I had until Coop stepped in front me. He was in his fifties and tall, basketball-player tall, and he often used his height and muscle to intimidate anyone who stood in his way. Today, anyone just happened to be me.
“Excuse me,” I said.
He bent his crooked, oversized nose toward me and said, “Well, well, if it isn’t Phony Spice, the wannabe detective.”
“Get out of my way, Coop.”
“What are you doing here, Sloane? Why were you in Sheppard’s office?”
“None of your business.”
“If you’re here, it is my business.”
I’d just taken a verbal slap across the cheek from Sheppard. I was in no mood to receive one from Coop too. I thought back to what Maddie had said the night before and smiled. Maybe it was time to wipe the highfalutin look off Coop’s face.
“I’ve just been hired to look into a possible homicide,” I said.
He threw his head back and snorted a laugh. “Never knew you were so funny.”
I wasn’t.
I fiddled with a strand of my long, dark hair and waited for reality to bite.
“Hang on,” he said. “You’re not serious.”
“I am.”
“Who the hell would hire you?”
“Rebecca Barlow’s parents.”
I noticed a slight quiver to his lips. He was irritated, though he maintained control. “Why in the world would they hire you?”
“I don’t know, Coop. Maybe they don’t think you’re doing a good enough job.”
His face turned several shades of red. I seized the opportunity to duck beneath his arm and whipped past him. “Guess we’ll see who gets to the truth about Rebecca Barlow’s death first. May the best man … I mean woman … win.”