Sixth Avenue North, 1:05 p.m.
Jess was just about ready to show her shield and wave her Glock if Fergus Cagle didn’t show up in the next sixty seconds.
The man had kept them waiting in his office for more than an hour. If not for the secretary sitting right outside the door, she and Lori could have reviewed every drawer and file the man had in his office.
“Chief Burnett is still demanding that you come back to the office.” Lori looked from her cell to Jess. “Harper says he is beyond furious.”
Well hell. He’d been clamoring for them to return to the office for the past fifteen minutes. “Step into the lobby and let him know that I’m in the middle of an interview and I can’t get back there until I’ve finished.” Not only was she meeting with Cagle, but there was Bullock, Gifford, and Kennamer to boot. She had waited this long, and she wasn’t leaving without these interviews.
Jess refused to even take her phone from her bag. She’d set it to silent after Dan’s first phone call. She had a job to do. Lori was with her. He needed to back off.
“Chief Harris.”
Jess looked up just in time to see Fergus Cagle striding into the room. She didn’t have to wait for the formal introduction. He was tall and thin with gray hair. Nice eyes and a friendly smile. She recognized him from the case file photos. He hadn’t changed one bit.
“I apologize for keeping you waiting. That confounded budget meeting just didn’t want to end.” He shook his head. “With all the cutbacks, we’re having a time keeping our employees properly compensated. From the looks of things we’ll be laying off more workers at the beginning of the year. That’s why I’m jumping through hoops trying to be in too many places at one time.”
“You’re here now.” Jess propped a smile in place. “Why don’t we get started?” She frowned. “The other three gentlemen are here?”
“Yes, ma’am. I was under the impression you wanted to speak to them separate from me, so they’re waiting in the employee lounge.”
Lori reentered the office. The look she gave Jess warned that Burnett hadn’t been pleased with her answer. What was new?
“Mr. Cagle, this is Detective Wells. If there’s an office free, she could interview one of the other gentlemen. We’ll make quick work of this formality so you can get back to the business of keeping our city’s power flowing.”
And they could get to the office before Dan sent SWAT to collect her.
“Why sure.” Cagle stepped to the door and instructed his secretary to show Detective Wells to an office and then have Kennamer meet her there.
When he returned to his desk, he placed his hands palms down on the cluttered surface and released a big sigh. “Now I’m all yours, ma’am.”
“According to the statements you gave fourteen and then thirteen years ago,” Jess began, “you didn’t recall seeing Emma James or Dorie Myers in the weeks prior to their disappearances.”
He gave a succinct nod. “That’s right. I was a reader back then but I didn’t work either of those routes normally. Once in a while I subbed for Bullock or Kennamer. The route that included the Myers house belonged to Jerry… Bullock. I might have taken Mike’s—Kennamer’s—route that included the James property once. We try to keep a reader on a particular route. He learns the idiosyncrasies of the homes along that route. Gets to know the routines of the families. We can spot problems easier that way.”
“What sort of problems?” Jess readied her pad and pen for taking notes.
“We can tell if a home is using more resources than usual; that can sometimes indicate a problem that the homeowner doesn’t know about. Sometimes there are deaths and we might not hear about it here in the office. The last thing we want to do is turn off someone’s power when they’ve lost a loved one and just forgot to pay the bill. We like to believe that we’re building relationships, Chief Harris. This is more than just about business.”
“I imagine a good knowledge of the route protects the reader as well.” As he considered the question she watched his face, his hands. He appeared very much at ease, very open.
“That’s true also,” he agreed. “We want our employees to be safe on the job. Some of the folks, especially those in the rural areas, have dogs that run loose. We’ve had more than our fair share of dog bites. The readers make it a point to get to know which houses have dogs. If possible they try to befriend the family pets. That makes their jobs easier and generally keeps everyone happy.”
“Do readers carry treats for the dogs in hopes of winning them over?” Jess stopped breathing in anticipation of his answer. Whoever had taken Dorie Myers had known how to handle her dog. That was a given.
“We don’t recommend or encourage feeding the pets. That kind of thing can end up in a lawsuit. It’s pretty much up to the reader to deal with each individual and unique situation. As long as he gets permission from the owner to give treats, I don’t see the harm.”
That was a yes in Jess’s opinion. She hoped her next question wouldn’t offend him. “In all your years working in the field and then in your capacity as a supervisor, have you ever known any of your employees to get involved with a customer? Attached, maybe, in an inappropriate or overzealous manner?”
Cagle leaned back in his chair and appeared to thoroughly weigh the question. “There was one time about twelve years ago that Roger Fowler got a little caught up in an affair with a female customer. Wouldn’t have been an issue except that the woman was married and she accused him of taking some jewelry from her home. In all my time in this department I have never known any of the men here to cross that line. Except that once. We keep an eye on each other, Chief Harris. None of us wants to lose the community’s trust by allowing a screwup. That’s just plain old good sense and job security. Roger retired after that. It was best.”
Jess made a note of Roger Fowler’s name. “Were any legal charges filed against Mr. Fowler?”
Cagle shook his head. “She and her husband chose not to file charges.”
“Do you have an address and phone number for Mr. Fowler?”
“We have the address and phone number he had when he worked here. My secretary will find that for you,” he offered. “Anything we can do to help.”
Jess appreciated the cooperation. “Do you have any pets, Mr. Cagle?” She knew he did, because there were pictures of him and a couple of dogs on the credenza behind his desk.
“I sure do.” He turned his chair so he could see the photos that had caught her attention. “I have two golden retrievers and an old cat. They keep me company. After my wife passed on, I needed a companion. The next thing I knew I had three of ’em. I guess the good Lord knew I was lonesome.”
Jess scribbled a few notes mostly for show. “What about children? Do you have children at home?”
“No, ma’am. My daughter’s all grown up. But I do have two beautiful grandchildren who visit regularly. A boy who’s thirteen and a nine-year-old granddaughter. I am truly blessed.”
“I’m sure you can sympathize with the parents of all these missing children. Little girls around the same age as your granddaughter. That’s why I’m here, Mr. Cagle. We’re going back through all the steps to ensure we haven’t missed anything. We have to find and stop the person responsible for these tragedies.”
He nodded. “I do understand. Like most folks, I thought we’d seen the last of this nightmare thirteen years ago. That’s one prayer I’m hoping will still be answered.”
“It does make you wonder, why now? After all these years?” Jess watched his face, his eyes for the slightest hint of any emotion beyond what appeared to be genuine regret.
He nodded, his expression somber, then he surveyed his desk and glanced at the clock before meeting her gaze once more. “I hope you’ll know the answer to that question soon. I know we’re supposed to love all God’s creatures, but this is one creature that needs to be stopped for his own good as well as the community’s. Seems like the whole community’s counting on you to do that, Chief Harris.”
Jess thanked him for his time and moved on to interview the final man on her list, Jerry Bullock. Cagle was accommodating enough to allow her to use his office. Lori had already finished her interview with Kennamer and was talking to Gifford.
“Mr. Bullock, besides Mr. Cagle, you’ve worked the longest for Alabama Power.”
The man nodded. “That’s right.”
Bullock was fifty-eight, a little on the heavy side. He had a friendly demeanor but he seemed distracted or nervous.
“Can you tell me what you remember from the days and weeks around the Man in the Moon abductions? The last two in particular. I believe Dorie Myers was on your route.”
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “We all talked about what a shame it was. I didn’t know any of the victims personally. Like you said, the Myers home was on my route at that time. I knew the parents, but I only saw the kids once in a while. They were usually in school when I came by the house.” He shook his head, his expression pained. “I felt for the Myerses. Still do. They’re good folks. The whole community was pretty torn up when that little girl disappeared.”
“Did you or any of your coworkers or friends have any theories on who might be taking all those children?”
He pursed his lips and appeared to consider her question at length. “Back then I think everybody considered everybody else a suspect. Hell, we didn’t know what was going on. I just kept hoping the police would find some evidence but they never did.”
“Was there any reason at that time or now for you to be concerned for your job or your safety, Mr. Bullock?”
Startled by her question, he sat up straight. “No, ma’am. No way.” He shook his head adamantly. “Why would you ask that?”
Jess made a few notes on her pad just to make him wonder. “Standard procedure, Mr. Bullock. Now.” She gave him a big smile. “Do you remember Roger Fowler?”
Bullock gave a halfhearted shrug. “I knew of him, but we didn’t pal around or anything.” He looked away, scratched the back of his head. “I heard he got into trouble and had to retire early.”
Obviously that was a subject he didn’t want to talk about. “Do you have anything else you want to say or any questions for me?”
He hesitated a bit but then asked, “You think you can catch him, ma’am? I mean, if this starts up again…” He shook his head. “If half the CSI stuff you see on TV is accurate, surely you can find him. He don’t need to get away with this anymore.” He cleared his throat. “You will catch him this time, won’t you?”
“We’re doing everything possible to find him,” Jess assured him. “You have my word on that.”
When he’d left, Jess gathered her things and stopped by the secretary’s desk for Fowler’s last known address.
The stories of the surviving meter readers hadn’t changed in thirteen years, it seemed. Considering how often they’d had the opportunity to discuss the past and rehash those memories, it was a miracle each one told his version exactly as he had over a decade before. The one new thread was Roger Fowler. Of course his illicit workplace affair hadn’t happened until the year after Dorie Myers was abducted, so there was no reason he would have been mentioned.
The fact that the man had no qualms about sleeping with another man’s wife didn’t make him a killer, but it certainly prompted a closer look at whatever else he might have been up to during his tenure at Alabama Power.
Jess left Alabama Power feeling as if she’d just exited a well-choreographed stage production where not a single character forgot his lines.
“We have ten minutes to get to the Jameses’ home.” Jess chewed her lip. “Should I call and let them know we’ll be a few minutes late?” The Jameses lived all the way out in Pelham, and not even Lori’s Mustang could go that fast.
“I think you’ll have to take care of that roadblock first.”
Jess followed her gaze to the Mustang where Burnett waited. A BPD cruiser had Lori’s car blocked in its parking slot.
Outrage rushed up Jess’s spine. “Give me a couple of minutes. See what you can find out about the meter reader who was fired, Roger Fowler.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jess stalked up to where Dan waited. For about three seconds and despite her fury, she couldn’t help being drawn to his strength. It was distracting enough that he was tall and handsome and that damned blue suit, the one she liked better than all the others, made those eyes of his glitter. On top of being plain old handsome, he had those broad shoulders and those strong arms that could make her feel safe…
But right now she was as mad as hell and she was not playing with him about this. “You have two minutes and then I’m on my way to interview the James family.”
He held out his phone, screen first. She glared at it, then surrendered and dug out her reading glasses. How was she supposed to stand her ground when she had to stop and get her damned glasses? She snatched the phone from his hand and had a look. Spears, the bastard, had sent him a text and the image of the flowers her self-proclaimed secret admirer had left on Lori’s car. Confirmed once and for all that the guy in the Infiniti was working for the obsessed serial killer.
She shoved the phone back at Dan. “The flowers are in the trunk. The card and envelope have been bagged for turning in to Evidence. What of it? We barely got a glimpse of the person who made the delivery.”
Evidently he was just as mad as she was. She could have used a jackhammer and not made a dent in that stony jaw of his. As she spoke, his posture had gone just as rigid. But it was the fire in those blue eyes that told her he was way, way ticked off. This might end up taking a few minutes longer than she’d anticipated.
“But you can’t be sure he wasn’t armed,” he said tightly, every word vibrating with fury.
“It’s possible.” She shrugged. “If he was, he ran like a coward, since Wells and I were definitely armed and ready.”
He dropped his phone into his jacket pocket and seemed to have trouble summoning whatever he intended to say next. Never a good sign. “How many times did I call you after I received that text?”
She supposed her ignoring his calls added insult to injury. Daniel Burnett hated to be ignored. “I was in the middle of interviews.” She gestured to the building behind her. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m working a case that involves twenty missing children. I wasn’t exactly sitting around waiting for you to call.”
“In the future,” he said, “when I call, answer.” That lethal tone was one she hadn’t heard before. “I don’t care where you are or what you’re doing, answer the damned phone.”
“There are times—”
He moved his head firmly from side to side, shutting her up. “There is no time that excuses your refusal to answer. If you are conscious, you answer. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why did you and Detective Wells leave this morning without your surveillance detail?”
Oh hell. “I forgot.” That was the truth. She completely forgot she needed to let them know when she left the office. “It won’t happen again.”
He pointed to the waiting cruiser. “They will be following you the rest of the day. A two-man team will be watching you every minute of every day and night until this is over.”
“Fine.” Geez. He didn’t have to be such a hardass about it.
He turned to walk away and she called after him, “Dan, wait.”
When he’d turned around she suggested, “Since you’re here, why don’t you take this stuff to Evidence and save me a trip.”
Before he could respond she passed him the bag containing the card and the envelope. Lori opened the trunk to retrieve the flowers.
He glared at Jess as he took the flowers then he just walked away. No good-bye, no see you later, nothing.
“He is pissed,” Lori said, as she rounded to her side of the car. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that angry.”
“Seriously.” Jess dropped into the passenger seat and exhaled a chest full of frustration. “I’ll call Mrs. James en route. And, for God’s sake, whatever you do, don’t lose that tail.”
“By the way,” Lori said, as she backed out of the parking slot, “Roger Fowler’s dead. He had a heart attack last year. His ex-wife said she hopes he’s rotting in hell.”
“Guess he’s not our guy.”
Unless there were two.
Pelham, 3:30 p.m.
Erin James sat on the sofa next to her husband, Roy, and kept quiet as Jess asked the questions she hoped would prompt some new memory… some seemingly insignificant fact that had been left out of their statements fourteen years ago.
Again, the answers were exactly the same as the ones given all those years before. Jess tamped down her mounting frustration. She would find the missing piece. All she had to do was keep going over the puzzle.
“Did Emma like dogs?” she asked. According to the case file, the family hadn’t owned any pets at the time of their daughter’s disappearance. Since previous investigations found no connection between the victims—little girls—Jess was reviewing any possible link. Dorie Myers had a dog she adored, and that dog had gone missing that same night. Maybe it was a long shot, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.
“She was afraid of dogs,” Roy answered.
His wife rarely even blinked. Jess suspected she had required medication after the news they’d gotten last night. No matter that fourteen years had passed, if the tiniest light of hope had still lived deep inside these parents, it was extinguished now.
“So no pets?” Jess repeated for clarification.
The husband shook his head. “No pets.”
Erin’s gaze abruptly shifted to meet Jess’s. “There was a cat.”
“A cat?”
The husband stared at his wife as if she’d lost her mind. “We didn’t have a cat, sweetheart. Emma was allergic to cats.”
Erin’s head went up and down, the move a little uncoordinated. “I know.” She drew in a big breath. “But she liked them anyway. Every time we visited anyone who had a cat, Emma would ask me why couldn’t she have one. ‘I don’t mind sneezing,’ she’d say.” Erin’s lips trembled into a smile as she swiped at her eyes. “But we didn’t want to aggravate her allergies, so we never let her have one.”
“You said there was a cat,” Jess reminded gently.
“A stray, I guess,” Erin said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It showed up a couple days before…”
“You didn’t tell me about a cat,” Roy said accusingly, as if she’d broken a marriage vow.
Jess understood his reaction. It was a common one among those left behind after a devastating tragedy. Those tender memories were so precious, the idea that he’d been left out of one was too painful to bear.
“I knew you wouldn’t like it,” Erin admitted. “I let her play with it in her room. We fed her some milk. She was really hungry.”
Roy stood and stepped away from the sofa. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.”
Erin ignored him. She just kept on talking to Jess as if the dam had broken and she couldn’t stop the outpouring of words. “She was white with black spots. Long hair, like a Persian. We knew she had a good home somewhere, because she was plenty fat and her coat was shiny.” Another smile tugged at her lips. “Emma wanted to name her Spot if no one claimed her. I laughed and told her Spot was a dog’s name.”
“What happened to the cat?” Jess wasn’t sure how the stray cat fit into the child’s abduction, but she wasn’t going to pretend this couldn’t be relevant. She just wasn’t sure how yet. The slightest detail could make the difference.
“We were going to talk to Roy the next day. I told Emma that her daddy would come around. He loved her too much to deny her anything.”
Roy turned back to her then, his face damp with emotion.
“When she said her prayers that night she included the cat.”
“Why didn’t I ever see this cat?” Roy asked gently. He resumed his seat next to his wife.
“The cat was gone the next morning, just like Emma.” She swiped at her eyes again. “I consoled myself with the idea that the cat was with her wherever she was.”
“You didn’t see the cat after that night?” Jess asked again. The cat had come from somewhere and chances were if it was lost it would hang around where it had gotten fed last. “It didn’t belong to any of your neighbors?”
“Never saw it again.”
Jess looked from Erin to her husband. “I know you’ve both relived those days leading up to the night Emma disappeared over and over. I also know it’s difficult to keep going back and revisiting those painful memories. But the smallest forgotten detail could make a difference. If you think of anything at all that you may have overlooked before, or if a question comes to mind, please call me.” She placed her business card on the coffee table.
“You still want to see her room?”
The hope in the mother’s voice squeezed Jess’s heart. “I do, yes.”
The Jameses’ home was a three-bedroom ranch in a quiet neighborhood that backed up to a wooded area. Like Dorie’s room, Emma’s had been left exactly as it was the night she disappeared. The bed was unmade, the My Little Pony comforter cast aside. Above the bed, pictures of colorful ponies and spotted cats drawn in crayon were thumbtacked to the wall, the edges yellowed and curling. Dolls and stuffed animals adorned the shelves along one wall, but it was a big, stuffed, very pink pony sitting atop the chest of drawers that drew Jess’s attention.
“She got Prissy for her birthday that spring,” Erin explained, stroking the pony’s thick mane. “She said when she grew up she intended to keep a pony in her backyard.”
“She was quite the artist.” Jess surveyed the crayon drawings above the bed. A girl who knew what she wanted and didn’t mind putting it on paper for anyone to see.
“She always got an A in Art.”
Jess turned to the father standing in the middle of the room, looking lost with his quiet comment echoing around them. “Before we go, Mr. James, if it’s no trouble, do you mind if we have a look at your backyard?”
“No trouble.”
He led the way through the house and out the kitchen door. Lori trailed behind Jess, listening to Erin go on about what a smart little girl Emma was. Always did her homework. Cleaned her room and minded her manners. Her voice prompted images of that gap-toothed smile and those long blonde locks of Emma’s. How had these people managed to go on after losing that precious child?
How could she possibly ever prepare herself for motherhood?
Jess pushed the thoughts aside and wandered around the yard. Emma and the others were depending on her.
She noted the location of the old swing set and the fact that there was no fence separating the backyard from the woods. She made a mental note that there were woods behind Dorie’s house, too. Then she moved to the window that looked into Emma’s bedroom. Even as short as Jess was, she could see the drawings on the wall above the child’s bed.
The Man in the Moon would have seen them, too. The drawings told him about how much Emma loved ponies… and about the spotted cat.
Jess turned back to the parents watching her so intently and mustered a reassuring smile. “We should get out of your way now. Thank you for helping with our investigation.”
“Do you think you can find him—” Ray James looked away, cleared his throat “—after all this time?”
This was the second time today she’d been asked that question. “I can promise you one thing, Mr. James,” she said. “I will give it everything I’ve got and then some.”
Emma’s parents followed her and Lori to the front of the house before going inside and closing the door.
Once in the Mustang she and Lori sat for a minute before driving away. The air-conditioning fought valiantly against the August heat. The police cruiser waited on the street for their next move.
“Do you think he’ll keep making these deliveries to you?” Lori’s voice filled the quiet that had shrouded them like a funeral cloak.
Jess wished she could answer that question with any measure of certainty. “His every step depends on what his motive is for suddenly reappearing.” She thought of the rusty swing set in the backyard that had waited fourteen years for the little girl who once played on it to return. “I think we’ll know by tomorrow night if he plans to continue. He seems to be on a pretty aggressive schedule.”
“Why do you think he’s doing this? Getting your attention surely isn’t his primary objective.”
Jess laughed though the sound fell flat of humor. “I know I’m cute and lovable, but I agree that getting my attention is likely not his primary objective.”
“Remorse maybe?” Lori braced her hands on the steering wheel. “Maybe he is old and dying and hoping to find absolution.”
Dan had suggested something along those lines. Jess doubted his motive was that simple or anywhere near that pure. “If his motive was absolution, then why make a game of it? Why not just deliver each child’s remains to her parents’ doorstep?” Jess dug out her sunglasses and slid them into place. “My impression is that he’s a sociopath with a larger agenda and we’re way behind the curve.”
Lori sighed. “Where to now?”
Jess glanced at the BPD cruiser waiting to follow them. “A couple more hours at the office and then I’m going home.” She relaxed into the seat and tried to evict the images of a little girl and a stray cat wandering off into the darkness.
If the Man in the Moon would just give her something… anything that pointed her in the right direction.
He wanted her to find him, or so he claimed.
Something Fergus Cagle had said to her reverberated through her now. The meter readers learned the idiosyncrasies of the homes… got to know the families’ routines…
Whoever took these children knew the homes and the families. He wasn’t afraid to approach the house and take what he wanted. Clearly he had watched his prey for days or weeks until he felt utterly confident.
Who else besides a meter reader had the opportunity to get that close on a regular basis without rousing suspicion?
Pest control provider? The mailman?
Not the mailman. His deliveries rarely took him to the door of a home and certainly not to the children’s bedroom windows. Mailboxes were way out in front near the street… nowhere near the windows on the backs of the homes.
Jess closed her eyes. She needed to clear her head… then she could start over with a fresh perspective.
A long hot bath was in order.
And a glass of wine…
Or maybe not, since she still hadn’t gotten her period. She groaned. How had she gotten into this mess?
She did a mental eye roll. Oh, yes. She remembered. One tall, dark, and handsome police chief was the answer.
The very one who might just need to learn to answer to “Daddy.”
Birmingham Police Department, 6:35 p.m.
Jess stared at her cell phone through two more rings. Gant. She steeled herself and answered just before it went to voice mail. “Harris,” she said by way of a greeting.
“You didn’t think you needed to call me when those flowers were delivered?”
“That’s what Burnett’s for,” she countered. “I’m sure he called you as soon as he finished chewing me out for not calling him.” He was still mad at her. Anytime he avoided her it was because he was too angry to trust what he might say.
Well she was mad, too. Mad as hell that Spears was out there playing a game that included three innocent women whose names she didn’t even know yet. Gant and the whole bunch needed to be worried about those three women, not her. Jess could take care of herself.
“Your stalker in the Infiniti is getting bolder, Jess,” Gant cautioned. “There’s no way to anticipate what he might do next.”
“Have you identified the women in those photos?” That’s what the supervisory agent in charge of the Behavioral Analysis Unit needed to have his energies and powerful abilities of analysis focused on. He was wasting time talking to her.
“We’re close on one of the women. We’ve followed up on hundreds of names from callers. This time we may have gotten lucky in Mobile. I hope to have a confirmation within the next twenty-four hours.”
Jess sat up a little straighter. “Have you actually found the woman?” That would be very good news. She wanted to hope… she really did.
“Not exactly. She—if this is one of the women in the photos—is unaccounted for.”
Jess groaned. “Damn it. Where the hell are these women? Their faces are all over the news. Someone somewhere has to know them.”
“Bear in mind, Jess,” Gant reminded her, “we only got the photos out to the media and in the national databases less than seventy-two hours ago. These things take time. You know this. It doesn’t work like it does on TV.”
Jess reared back and glared at her phone. “You did not just say that to me.”
“You know what I mean, Jess.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” She did. People, young and old, went missing all the time without being missed immediately by friends and neighbors. She also knew that Spears would take advantage of those least likely to be missed. “Am I still trending among his friends on the Net?”
Wasn’t that every woman’s dream? To be the subject of discussion among killers and their fans?
“That’s difficult to assess. There’s indications that some have moved on to private chat rooms. But they’re still out there Jess, and they’re talking about you.”
Lovely. “As soon as you find out about the woman in Mobile, you’ll let me know?”
“Count on it.”
When the call ended Jess decided it was time to go home. As if she’d summoned him, Harper strolled back into the office. He’d had a command performance with the chief of police.
Jess grabbed her bag and readied to go. Harper went about doing the same. That he didn’t say anything had Jess wondering what Dan had to say. This was the first time since their college days that he’d gotten this angry at her. She remembered now why she hated so much when they argued. It made her feel empty and… afraid.
“You ready, ma’am?” Harper asked.
She cleared her throat and banished the memories. “Is he still angry at me?”
Harper considered her question a moment. “Not angry, no, ma’am. He’s worried.”
Well, that made two of them. “Take me home, Sergeant. I’m done for today.”
Sometimes a woman, even a cop, had to admit when she was at an impasse and only a hot bath and chocolate would help.
And maybe an apology.