lights to warn people aside. By the time she reached the bridge, she had a caravan on her tail, like racing cars trying to take advantage of the leader's tail wind.
Her phone rang again as she was crossing over Treasure Island.
"Wyatt."
"Hey." The voice she heard now had been up for hours.
"You already at the station?" she asked.
"Not much to do at my house alone."
That was clearly a dig. "Buck—"
"I know. Asked and answered."
Buck never said anything he didn't mean. She switched lanes, passed a slow-moving Mercedes.
"When can I see you?" he asked.
"I caught one. At the Hall. Know what's going on?"
"No idea." He paused. "Any chance for tonight?"
Guilt. "I don't think so."
Silence. Disappointment.
"I wish it could be different," she said. It was true, but she wasn't sure how.
"It could be," he countered.
"Bruce."
He laughed. "I always know I'm in trouble when you use my given name. Like my mother."
"Thanks."
"Got to tell it like it is. Call me when you get in." He hung up without saying good-bye. When they were apart for too long, he grew sullen, cool. It made him seem like another person to take care of. She tried to explain it to him once, that she couldn't take care of another person. She'd fallen for him because he was strong, unwavering, but he wasn't. No one was, really. Some people just looked that way from first glance. What she'd seen was honesty and she appreciated it. Still. Adored it for him, but it made the relationship complicated. Too complicated.
Under a blanket of gray clouds and a shroud of guilt, Hailey crossed the bridge. Always guilty. For John. For Buck. For Camilla and Ali. For everyone except herself. She had it all. If only there was a way to make it work. But there wasn't. She knew there wasn't.
* * *
At 8:20 Hailey exited the freeway at Civic Center. When she reached the street entrance to the police parking lot, it was cordoned off with bright yellow crime scene tape. She pulled perpendicular to the tape, put the car in park and scanned the faces. Dozens of them. Most from the department.
Her stomach clenched. Christ. A murdered cop. There were too many people for anything else.
The police captain of the district that included the station was there. Captain Linda James stood with a younger woman Hailey didn't recognize. The other woman was thin and tan with long legs. A model from a Lands' End catalog.
Linda waved. Hailey looked past them, making a mental list. A half-dozen people from the crime lab. Beyond them, Jamie Vail stood alone, smoking. Several discarded butts littered the asphalt around her feet. If possible, she looked worse than she had the night before. Rail thin as ever, the cropped cut of Jamie's hair that had once seemed manicured now looked shaggy. Her hair had fewer highlights, and the cheeks Hailey once remembered as being covered with golden freckles were sallow.
Jamie stood ramrod straight, the veins in her neck taut, one leg behind the other like a runner ready to take off.
Hailey got out of her car as James approached, the younger woman behind her.
"Who was it?" Hailey asked, looking over at the two uniformed officers who guarded the car.
"Natasha Devlin."
Hailey's gaze immediately traveled to Jamie Vail.
Linda nodded. "She showed up less than an hour ago. I told her."
Hailey looked back. "Surprised?"
Linda shrugged. "I think so, but I wouldn't put money on it."
Jamie Vail had a reputation as a loose cannon in the department. Some rumors suggested she was dangerous to those around her. Some of the higher-ups agreed. But Jamie's captain, Ben Jules, was a fierce defender. Jules was no pushover and Jamie was no kiss-ass. Hailey knew that no matter what anyone thought, Jamie was as dedicated a professional as they came. And she was damn good at her job. If she wasn't, she never would have lasted after the shooting incident.
And Jules wasn't alone. Anyone who had seen Jamie with her victims knew she was as good as they came. That didn't always
Her phone rang again as she was crossing over Treasure Island.
"Wyatt."
"Hey." The voice she heard now had been up for hours.
"You already at the station?" she asked.
"Not much to do at my house alone."
That was clearly a dig. "Buck—"
"I know. Asked and answered."
Buck never said anything he didn't mean. She switched lanes, passed a slow-moving Mercedes.
"When can I see you?" he asked.
"I caught one. At the Hall. Know what's going on?"
"No idea." He paused. "Any chance for tonight?"
Guilt. "I don't think so."
Silence. Disappointment.
"I wish it could be different," she said. It was true, but she wasn't sure how.
"It could be," he countered.
"Bruce."
He laughed. "I always know I'm in trouble when you use my given name. Like my mother."
"Thanks."
"Got to tell it like it is. Call me when you get in." He hung up without saying good-bye. When they were apart for too long, he grew sullen, cool. It made him seem like another person to take care of. She tried to explain it to him once, that she couldn't take care of another person. She'd fallen for him because he was strong, unwavering, but he wasn't. No one was, really. Some people just looked that way from first glance. What she'd seen was honesty and she appreciated it. Still. Adored it for him, but it made the relationship complicated. Too complicated.
Under a blanket of gray clouds and a shroud of guilt, Hailey crossed the bridge. Always guilty. For John. For Buck. For Camilla and Ali. For everyone except herself. She had it all. If only there was a way to make it work. But there wasn't. She knew there wasn't.
* * *
At 8:20 Hailey exited the freeway at Civic Center. When she reached the street entrance to the police parking lot, it was cordoned off with bright yellow crime scene tape. She pulled perpendicular to the tape, put the car in park and scanned the faces. Dozens of them. Most from the department.
Her stomach clenched. Christ. A murdered cop. There were too many people for anything else.
The police captain of the district that included the station was there. Captain Linda James stood with a younger woman Hailey didn't recognize. The other woman was thin and tan with long legs. A model from a Lands' End catalog.
Linda waved. Hailey looked past them, making a mental list. A half-dozen people from the crime lab. Beyond them, Jamie Vail stood alone, smoking. Several discarded butts littered the asphalt around her feet. If possible, she looked worse than she had the night before. Rail thin as ever, the cropped cut of Jamie's hair that had once seemed manicured now looked shaggy. Her hair had fewer highlights, and the cheeks Hailey once remembered as being covered with golden freckles were sallow.
Jamie stood ramrod straight, the veins in her neck taut, one leg behind the other like a runner ready to take off.
Hailey got out of her car as James approached, the younger woman behind her.
"Who was it?" Hailey asked, looking over at the two uniformed officers who guarded the car.
"Natasha Devlin."
Hailey's gaze immediately traveled to Jamie Vail.
Linda nodded. "She showed up less than an hour ago. I told her."
Hailey looked back. "Surprised?"
Linda shrugged. "I think so, but I wouldn't put money on it."
Jamie Vail had a reputation as a loose cannon in the department. Some rumors suggested she was dangerous to those around her. Some of the higher-ups agreed. But Jamie's captain, Ben Jules, was a fierce defender. Jules was no pushover and Jamie was no kiss-ass. Hailey knew that no matter what anyone thought, Jamie was as dedicated a professional as they came. And she was damn good at her job. If she wasn't, she never would have lasted after the shooting incident.
And Jules wasn't alone. Anyone who had seen Jamie with her victims knew she was as good as they came. That didn't always
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