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Tuesday. Darby
I didn’t sleep well that night, which was par for my course. Genova’s passionate plea about the status of my non-romantic relationship with Mark had left me tossing and turning as I tumbled her words over and over in my head. I’d seen her do some pretty fancy tongue work in a few situations where work was concerned, but even for her, this had been impressive, had it not been directed at yours truly, of course.
When I got to work the next morning at seven, I was surprised to find a pink carnation lying in front of my screen and a handwritten note on actual paper on my desk. Who does those things anymore? Besides that, it must be tremendously expensive.
Darby,
It was a pleasure meeting you last night.
I hope our meeting was the first of many.
—Will Young
He’d included his work and personal numbers at the bottom.
I sniffed the carnation. What a sweet gesture after just meeting, especially since I’d nearly knocked him over.
I put my things away, then went to the break room where the women on the floor kept a stock of community vases.
A tall, thin vase was perfect for my needs. I placed it right next to my desk glass so I could see it. I wondered if Mark would react.
I buckled down and started working on figuring out what our day would hold, at least as far as we could control it.
Mark came up behind me and deposited a bakery bag at my elbow a few minutes before eight.
“How is it you always beat me in? Every morning, it’s the same.”
I leaned back and stretched. “Maybe you need a good case of insomnia; then you’d beat me in.”
He laughed. “Yeah, but I’m the senior partner, Darb. You make me look bad.”
I frowned. After nearly three weeks of a cold shoulder, what was up? “You’ll have to get in here at a quarter to seven to beat me in. Sometimes earlier.”
He wrinkled his nose.
I watched him sit down, looking for signs he spotted my flower. If he did, he didn’t react. Inwardly, I frowned. Usually, he picked up on stuff like that, commented. Had he just missed it? Or decided not to comment?
He turned on his glass, and it went opaque. “Anything new on our case this morning?”
I shook my head. “I submitted a request for Prairie’s financial and personal records.”
“Good work.” He glanced at me, then back at the screen. “Gonna open your treat?”
I remembered the bag. “Oh, right. Thanks.”
I unfolded the top and found a croissant nestled in bakery paper. Underneath was raspberry-flavored butter. He hadn’t been this nice to me since I told him I’d had his DNA tested. I glanced his direction and wondered if maybe he was ready to stop being angry with me and talk about the repercussions of what I’d done.
Maybe I could broach the idea of barbecue tonight and see if he bit.
“Yummy.”
“Glad you approve.”
“Shaw! Herman!”
Lieutenant Douglass stood at her office door. Her expression said we should be in her office already.
Both Mark and I dropped what we were doing.
“Shut the door, Mark,” she drawled when we were both inside. “Sit down, both of you.”
We sat.
“Do you guys have time for an outside request, Darby?”
“Of course,” I said, although inwardly, I dreaded the thought of a resuscitation today. The migraines, the exhaustion, and trying to work on top of that? Not a recipe for a fun day.
“I guess,” Mark said at the same time as me.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Douglass handed us a digi-page. “This one came across from Overland Park Bendex. Homicide two nights ago, they’ve got the evidence on their perp, they want to verify.”
I straightened and nodded. Mark took the page. “Which hospital?”