Perilous by E. H. Reinhard

car, I might have bought his emotions as legitimate. I paused during the questioning to make some notes.
    “Do you have a suspect?” Riaola asked.
    Hank looked at me to answer.
    “We’re working a few leads now,” I said. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. I planned to act as though I’d gotten an urgent message on another case, a ruse. I just wanted an excuse to walk out and give him a couple minutes to wonder. My phone did show a text message from Callie that was a few minutes old. “Can you give us a minute, Mr. Riaola? We just got news on something that needs to be addressed real quick.”
    “Yeah, that’s fine.” He took the water Hank had brought him and unscrewed the top.
    “It should be just a couple minutes,” I said.
    Hank and I walked out into the hallway and closed the door.
    “Did you actually get something?” Hank asked.
    I shook my head. “Nothing on the case. I got a message from Callie, though. She’s probably at the store. Hold on.” I clicked the text message to read it. She was asking if we wanted American or German potato salad. “American or German potato salad to go with the steaks?”
    “German,” Hank said.
    I sent Callie a text message letting her know—and that I loved her.
    “All right, let’s go talk to Cap.”
    We walked next door to the observation room.
    Captain Bostok was leaning back in a chair at the desk. The video monitoring equipment sat before him. He pointed through the glass. “He’s wrestling with something.”
    Hank and I walked to the captain’s side and looked through the observing mirror. Riaola fidgeted with his hands. He let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair. He squeezed the back of his neck.
    “Looks like a man with a guilty conscience,” I said.
    Hank nodded in confirmation.
    “You didn’t hear anything from Rick yet, huh?” I asked.
    The captain shook his head. “Why don’t you guys walk downstairs and see if they heard anything back.”
    Hank raised his eyebrows. “So, Cap, have you heard about this new technology where you can get an answer from someone that’s not in the same room?” Hank pointed to the phone sitting on the desk.
    Bostok flashed Hank a look of annoyance. “So, Sergeant Rawlings, have you heard the one about the sergeant who was being a smart-ass and got assigned to the graveyard shift?”
    Hank shook his head. “No.”
    I smiled. “Come on, Hank. Let’s give this guy a few minutes to stew on whatever he’s thinking about.”
    We left the observation room and headed to the forensics lab on the first floor. I looked around. Pax was working in a glass lab at the back. Rick was in his office. We headed over. I knocked, and we walked in.
    “Kane, Rawlings,” Rick said.
    “Hear anything back from Atlanta?” I asked.
    Rick dug a pack of gum from his pocket and began popping the pieces from the blister pack. “Um, I spoke with their lead, Allen Manten, maybe ten minutes ago. They were on their way to the lab to get started on everything.” He scooped four pieces of the gum from the top of his desk and shoveled them into his mouth. He spoke between chews. “I’d say I should hear something from them within the hour on the prints. Blood will take longer.”
    “Did you eat a clove of garlic for lunch or something?” I asked. “What’s with the gum?”
    “Nicotine gum. I’m trying to kick the cancer sticks. This stuff is awful, though. It tastes like pepper. If I eat a handful at a time though, it kind of works.”
    I nodded. “Whatever works. So that’s where we’re sitting on the evidence? Waiting for now?”
    “Yup, waiting game. Rumor circled down that this guy walked in the station, hey?” Rick continued chewing.
    “We have him upstairs in a box. I’m going to keep him here until we get word from Atlanta. As soon as you hear something, come and let me know.”
    “No sweat.”
    We left Rick to his nicotine fix.

Chapter 9 - Kane
    Hank and I headed into the observation room. Bostok