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administration. Great to have you back! That brought a little tear to her eye. And made her smile.
    So did the handful of photos that were still on her shelf. Rick finishing the Marine Corps Marathon in D.C. last year. In 3:51:29. His personal best, by far! Raef looking very ferocious in his pee wee football gear. That nice one of the three of them at her folks’ last Thanksgiving. All decked out.
    Carrie felt herself starting to get sad.
    She looked at the mountain of files and memorandums that had been arranged on her desk by Andrea Carson, her deputy, and then the phone started to ring: people she dealt with on the force and even a local press contact, all glad to hear she was back. She started to read through a few of the files, trying to catch up on what was happening. She knew she’d have to ease herself back into the routine.
    Andrea knocked on her door, folders in hand. “You ready?”
    “Ready.” Carrie nodded with a smile. “Come on in.”
    That’s when she noticed that a crowd had gathered underneath the TV in the detectives’ bullpen. Things seemed to have gotten a little hectic. Lots of people running around.
    She stood up, the captain’s office door had been closed a long time now. Then she saw the chief, the new chief, with whom she’d hoped to grab a couple of minutes, heading out of the office with Cam Winfield, the department’s press liaison—not looking at all as if “community outreach” was high on his list of priorities right now.
    Something had happened!
    Carrie stepped out and found Robyn, Chief Hall’s secretary. “What’s going on?”
    “Didn’t you hear?” Robyn’s eyes were wet with tears. “One of our guys was just shot on the street. Killed .”
    “Oh no . . .” Carrie’s blood came to a halt. “Who?”
    “A patrol officer out of Southeast. Named Martinez.” The chief’s secretary sadly shook her head.
    “Robert Martinez?” Carrie sucked in a painful breath. She knew Martinez. She’d worked with him once or twice, in Brentwood, on a community center there. He was a part-time basketball coach. He had a wife and a couple of kids. “On the street?” she asked Robyn.
    “Shot. Point-blank. After a routine traffic stop.” The chief’s assistant shook her head. “Right in his car.”
    “Oh God . . .” Carrie felt her stomach fall. She tried to recall, Jacksonville hadn’t had an officer killed in the line of duty for at least a couple of years. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do . . .” she said, and shook her head kind of uselessly. “Please . . .”
    She went back to her desk, an empty feeling in her gut. She went on the KJNT news website and brought up a live feed from the scene. “Police Officer Reportedly Killed on Lakeview Drive,” the headline read. The shot was from an airborne copter cam. Carrie minimized it and brought up Martinez’s “green screen.” There were several commendations. One censure years ago for excessive force that was never prosecuted. She thought of his wife, Marilyn. She would call her. She knew firsthand how tough this was going to be.
    “Carrie?”
    Bill Akers stuck his head inside her workstation. Akers was her boss, a captain, in charge of operations, and her department reported in to him.
    Carrie stood up. “I just heard . . .”
    “Listen, Carrie . . .” Akers blew out a breath. “I know it’s your first day back and all . . .”
    “Don’t worry about that,” she answered. “What can I do?”
    “We’re setting up a hotline. A lot of personnel are in the field or following up on leads. We’ve got a manhunt going. You mind manning a phone? Anyone calls in who seems legit, take down their info. A detective will get back to them as soon as they can.”
    “Of course I’ll take a phone,” Carrie said. “Whatever you need. Is there a . . .”
    “Suspect . . .” Akers filled in. “Yeah, we have a suspect. We’ve got a picture of him on the screen now.”
    He led her over to a