lenses.
All that blue was fringed with lashes that were long and thick and very black. Her brows were thin and dark and delicately arched. A stark contrast to skin that was the pale ivory of fresh buttermilk. Her lips were as pink as a Texas grapefruit. No power lipstick for Kate Megason. But then she didn’t need facades. The hard edges of her personality more than made up for the softness of her face.
She wore an uptight suit with uptight shoes, and Frank figured if she got any more uptight, the woman would be in a knot. Her espresso brown hair was cut short, barely longer than his own, but it had the shiny gloss of a raven’s breast. He hated boy-cut hair on a woman. He hated bitchy women with holier-than-thou attitudes. But even through the layers of dislike, he couldn’t help but notice that beneath that uptight suit and I’ll-kick-your-ass expression she had one hell of a body. The kind of body a man would risk bodily harm for just one touch.
Frank figured it was a good thing he wasn’t in the market for a woman, to-die-for body or not.
“I don’t report to you,” he said. “I report to Mike Shelley.”
“I think this situation will be best resolved if you walk away and let it go.”
“Not a chance, sweetheart.” He smiled when she stiffened, and Frank knew he’d scored a direct hit. Bingo. She didn’t like being called sweetheart. He wondered how she would react if he told her what he really thought of her. “If you have a problem with my working on this case, I suggest you take it to him.”
“I plan to.” Snapping her briefcase closed, she turned and walked away without looking back.
TUESDAY, JANUARY 24, 5:24 P.M.
“I don’t want him.”
“Kate, come on.”
“He’s got a bad attitude. He disrupted my team meeting this morning. He’s inexperienced. I could go on.”
“Don’t, because it’s out of my hands.” Mike Shelley leaned back in his leather executive chair and tried to look diplomatic.
Kate knew him well enough to know he was about as diplomatic as Hitler had been. “Why is it out of your hands? You’re the DA, for chrissake.”
“I agreed to do this.”
“Do what exactly? Sabotage my case?”
Looking pained, he leaned forward and frowned. “Look, it’s political, okay? I owed the assistant chief a favor.”
“Assistant chief of police?”
“He and I go back a ways.”
“So you dump Matrone on me? If you owed someone a favor, why the hell didn’t you give him symphony tickets or something?”
“He was a good detective, Kate.”
“If he was such a good detective, why isn’t he still a detective?”
“He was in the military. Reserve, I think. Got called to duty and sent to the Middle East. He got hurt when he was over there and has had a rough time of it, so give him a break, will you?”
Kate knew she wasn’t being nice about this, but she couldn’t help it. An investigator’s role was crucial. This case was important. And she didn’t like Frank Matrone one iota. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked without sympathy.
Mike Shelley laughed. “You’re a hard case, Kate.”
“I have a hard job to do.”
“I’m really glad you’re on my team.”
“You’re trying to flatter me because you don’t want to deal with this.”
“Look, I’m not going to change my mind, so you’re just going to have to work it out.”
“Why do you have to repay this favor on my watch? At my expense?”
“From what I hear, Matrone was a good cop, Kate. Give him a chance to do his job. He might surprise you.”
If Kate had learned anything in the course of her career, it was that she didn’t like surprises. Particularly when it came to her job.
TUESDAY, JANUARY 24, 11:13 P.M.
“Ellis is going to talk.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know enough about that sleazy little son of a bitch to know he’ll do anything to save his neck, including sell us out.”
The man in the Italian-made suit leaned back in his leather chair and
All that blue was fringed with lashes that were long and thick and very black. Her brows were thin and dark and delicately arched. A stark contrast to skin that was the pale ivory of fresh buttermilk. Her lips were as pink as a Texas grapefruit. No power lipstick for Kate Megason. But then she didn’t need facades. The hard edges of her personality more than made up for the softness of her face.
She wore an uptight suit with uptight shoes, and Frank figured if she got any more uptight, the woman would be in a knot. Her espresso brown hair was cut short, barely longer than his own, but it had the shiny gloss of a raven’s breast. He hated boy-cut hair on a woman. He hated bitchy women with holier-than-thou attitudes. But even through the layers of dislike, he couldn’t help but notice that beneath that uptight suit and I’ll-kick-your-ass expression she had one hell of a body. The kind of body a man would risk bodily harm for just one touch.
Frank figured it was a good thing he wasn’t in the market for a woman, to-die-for body or not.
“I don’t report to you,” he said. “I report to Mike Shelley.”
“I think this situation will be best resolved if you walk away and let it go.”
“Not a chance, sweetheart.” He smiled when she stiffened, and Frank knew he’d scored a direct hit. Bingo. She didn’t like being called sweetheart. He wondered how she would react if he told her what he really thought of her. “If you have a problem with my working on this case, I suggest you take it to him.”
“I plan to.” Snapping her briefcase closed, she turned and walked away without looking back.
TUESDAY, JANUARY 24, 5:24 P.M.
“I don’t want him.”
“Kate, come on.”
“He’s got a bad attitude. He disrupted my team meeting this morning. He’s inexperienced. I could go on.”
“Don’t, because it’s out of my hands.” Mike Shelley leaned back in his leather executive chair and tried to look diplomatic.
Kate knew him well enough to know he was about as diplomatic as Hitler had been. “Why is it out of your hands? You’re the DA, for chrissake.”
“I agreed to do this.”
“Do what exactly? Sabotage my case?”
Looking pained, he leaned forward and frowned. “Look, it’s political, okay? I owed the assistant chief a favor.”
“Assistant chief of police?”
“He and I go back a ways.”
“So you dump Matrone on me? If you owed someone a favor, why the hell didn’t you give him symphony tickets or something?”
“He was a good detective, Kate.”
“If he was such a good detective, why isn’t he still a detective?”
“He was in the military. Reserve, I think. Got called to duty and sent to the Middle East. He got hurt when he was over there and has had a rough time of it, so give him a break, will you?”
Kate knew she wasn’t being nice about this, but she couldn’t help it. An investigator’s role was crucial. This case was important. And she didn’t like Frank Matrone one iota. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked without sympathy.
Mike Shelley laughed. “You’re a hard case, Kate.”
“I have a hard job to do.”
“I’m really glad you’re on my team.”
“You’re trying to flatter me because you don’t want to deal with this.”
“Look, I’m not going to change my mind, so you’re just going to have to work it out.”
“Why do you have to repay this favor on my watch? At my expense?”
“From what I hear, Matrone was a good cop, Kate. Give him a chance to do his job. He might surprise you.”
If Kate had learned anything in the course of her career, it was that she didn’t like surprises. Particularly when it came to her job.
TUESDAY, JANUARY 24, 11:13 P.M.
“Ellis is going to talk.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know enough about that sleazy little son of a bitch to know he’ll do anything to save his neck, including sell us out.”
The man in the Italian-made suit leaned back in his leather chair and
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