A Deadly Row by Casey Mayes

Grady.”
    “Why can’t it be both?” Zach asked. “I had to watch out for political ramifications all of the time when I had his job. It isn’t easy being chief, and nobody knows that better than I do. He’d done everything he can to catch this guy. I can’t think of a thing I would have done differently if I was in his shoes.”
    “You wouldn’t have had to bring in outside help,” I said.
    “Don’t count on it. There’s such a thing as being too close to a situation. I’ve got enough distance to look at it a little clearer, with none of the pressure Davis has.”
    “No, you just have to find a killer before one of your best friends is the next victim. That’s no pressure at all.”
    “I’m surprised to see you back here so soon,” Zach said. “How long were you gone?”
    “Are you trying to get rid of me already?”
    “No, of course not. I just thought you had another puzzle due today. You’re not skipping any deadlines for this, are you?”
    “I have a few in the bank. I’ll call Derrick and have him run one of those if he needs to.”
    “Savannah, I know how much you hate doing that.”
    “It’s no big deal. I’ll do one tomorrow, okay? Right after my breakfast appointment.”
    “You’ve got plans already? Who’s your date?”
    “Lorna Gaither. I ran into her in the hotel lobby, and she wanted to get together. I think she misses having me around. Would you like to join us?”
    Zach had never been one of Lorna’s fans, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d been the one to break her up with Grady, though he’d never said anything to me about it, and there weren’t any secrets between us.
    At least I didn’t think there were.
    My stomach grumbled. “Zach, were you planning to eat dinner any time soon?”
    “It’s nowhere near time to eat.”
    “Look at your watch.”
    He glanced at it, then he said, “Sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was getting. I thought I’d just send out for a sandwich.”
    “Wow, could we make it two, or do we have to split yours?”
    “Savannah, you know how I get when I’m trying to get my hooks into a case. If you’d like to go out to Morton’s yourself, you have my blessing.”
    “I’d rather split a sandwich with you than have a steak by myself,” I said. “Let me grab a phone book and I’ll make the call.”
    “Fine,” he said absently, but I could tell that I’d already lost him. There was something about one of the photographs on the wall that he was fixated on, and I knew I could stand on the table in front of him and spout the Gettysburg Address and he wouldn’t even notice. I found a sandwich shop that delivered, placed our order, and then started looking through some of the paperwork spread out on tables. The first murder victim had been a man in his thirties named Hank Tristan. He’d been discovered in his bed with a single stab wound to the heart, and the police had determined that he’d been at the Black-Tie Ball the night before. The ball had been a fundraiser for Charity At Home, a group that raised money to help underprivileged children in the most rural areas of North Carolina. It had been hosted by Jerry Drake, one of the minority partners of the Charlotte Bobcats basketball team, a man who wasn’t afraid to use the clout of his connections to solicit donations for his favorite causes. Hank’s date had left the party early with a migraine headache, and he had stayed behind to dance with as many women as he could convince to join him on the floor. Nobody saw him leave, or even if he was alone at the time, and when he didn’t show up at his investment firm the next morning, his executive assistant, Julian King, had gone by the house to collect him.
    Evidently Hank enjoyed his partying, and had made it a duty of his aide to wake him if it was needed, help him into a cold shower, and get him ready for work. I didn’t know how much Julian made, but I couldn’t imagine that it was worth what he had to do. When the