DETECTIVE McPHEE

The reprimand was unexpected and unfair. McPhee stood in front of her supervisor’s desk and concentrated on keeping her face empty of expression.

“Is there a reason you haven’t followed up with the report of a stranger in a hoodie in the neighborhood, Detective?”

“Not yet, sir. Stranger involvement doesn’t seem that likely. I’ve been trying to interview a neighbor who wears a hoodie, but she has not been available. Our investigation now suggests possible involvement by the husband.”

“Do you know who Dr. Blum is?”

McPhee nodded, but inside she seethed. Treating important people differently than ordinary citizens was one of her least favorite parts of police work. Her supervisor was hyper-aware of the town power structure, always reminding officers to be respectful of the public, especially those with money and clout.

“Tread very carefully, Detective. This could become a high-profile case. People are frightened and demanding results. The citizen who reported a person wearing a hoodie deserves to have his concern looked into, even if he refused to give his name. Your job is to follow up every single possible lead immediately. Do you understand that?”

McPhee tried to ignore the waves of exhaustion flooding her body. Exhaustion and shame at being summoned from the field and spoken to like a rookie. Had she missed something important? Was her working theory totally off base? Or was this another example of her supervisor’s bias against female cops? She would head back to Azalea Court now and go over all her notes again.

“Yes, sir. I’ll look into it right away.”