Bree walked up to the closed double doors on the fifth floor of police headquarters downtown and knocked.
“Come in,” a familiar male voice called.
Bree opened the door and stepped inside the office of chief of police Bryan Michaels. The chief, a fit man with a thick shock of steel-gray hair, was on a cell phone, listening intently and nodding.
“I’m hearing you,” Michaels said in a firm tone. “Loud and clear.”
He hung up, reached over to shake her hand, and gestured her to a chair. “Where are we on Senator Walker’s death?”
“Fourth in line, sir,” Bree said, taking the chair. “FBI’s got jurisdiction, with Secret Service and Capitol Police in support.”
He didn’t seem to like that. “So we’re not even in the game?”
“I offered Ned Mahoney anything he needed from Metro PD,” Bree said. “I’ll be briefed on a daily basis.”
The chief said, “I’m getting heat on this one, Bree. From the commissioner, the mayor, and the congressmen. They’re all wondering how we’re not out front on a murder in our own backyard. I’m wondering too.”
That surprised Bree. Chief Michaels was by nature a pragmatist, and he knew the command structure in a situation like this as well as she did.
Before she could reply, he said, “Where’s Alex in all this?”
“FBI snapped him up. I don’t know exactly what he’s working on.”
“Course not,” the chief said, shaking his head. “I don’t know if this consultant thing’s going to work. It’s…”
“Sir?”
“When Alex was on board full-time, I could count on Metro PD being out front no matter the case,” Michaels said.
“He’s that kind of detective, sir,” Bree allowed.
“He is,” the chief said, and then he leaned across the desk. “But he’s unavailable. So I need you to step up, Bree. I want my chief of detectives to be hungry. Not a paper pusher. Not a caretaker. I want you to be bold, to take action, stand for something in the community. I mean, for God’s sake, a U.S. senator was assassinated in our jurisdiction and we’re not breaking ground?”
“Chief, again, and with all due respect, the FBI—”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the FBI or the Secret Service or the Capitol Police. This is my city, and you are its chief of detectives, Stone. Prove you still should be.”
Bree was taken aback for several moments before lifting her chin. “And how exactly do I prove that, sir?”
“You find Senator Walker’s assassin and deliver his head to Mahoney on a plate.”