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money.”
    â€œYou’re the one who brought it up.”
    â€œI guess…I guess I was trying to point out that there’ve been times when I’ve…tried to help.”
    â€œIf that’s ‘trying to help,’ you’re even more pathetic than I thought,” he said, and disconnected as Rachel Ferrentino, a fellow operative and good friend, came into the room.
    â€œHey,” she said. “What’s up?”
    She looked concerned, so he plastered his usual easygoing smile on his face. “Nothing. Why?”
    â€œMilt’s throwing a fit. Says you have no respect for his time.”
    â€œIt’s not just his time. I have no respect for him. ”
    He expected her to laugh, but she refused to let him throw her off track. She’d figured out that something significant had occurred.
    â€œThat was important, huh?” She eyed his phone.
    Trying once again to bury the memories conjured up by his father’s call—and the pain associated with them—he drew a deep breath. “Not really.”
    Her eyebrows knotted with skepticism. “You’re full of crap. You know that?”
    â€œThat’s what I’ve been told,” he replied, and sauntered past her, chucking her on the chin as if his heart wasn’t racing like a rabbit’s.
    Â 
    The air-conditioning at the station was working double time to counter the heat of another one hundred and ten degree day, but Sophia was far from comfortable. She knew Detective Lindstrom would be showing up any minute. Lindstrom had called while she was at the crime scene, almost as soon as she’d hung up with the mayor, which meant she’d had two agonizing conversations in a row. Lindstrom had heard about the shooting via her police radio and was furious that Sophia hadn’t notified her. Sophia had used the excuse that she couldn’t be sure this shooting was related to the others, not until she’d had a look, but that had—understandably—done little to placate Lindstrom. By the time she arrived at the scene, there’d been nothing left except the tape that cordoned off the area and a spot of blood from the male victim’s body. Along with the limited artifacts found in the victims’ clothing, Sophia had taken the spent shell casings, and the morgue had taken the bodies. Because they were dealing with homicide victims, there’d be an autopsy, but Sophia didn’texpect it to reveal anything she didn’t already know, at least about the manner of death.
    Ironing out the sheet of paper with the phone number she’d found on “José,” she picked up her phone. She needed to identify the victims so she could call the Mexican consulate and have them notify the families of the deceased. With luck, the person at this number would be able to help.
    Six rings. Then a voice speaking English with a strong Mexican accent told her to leave a message.
    She was about to do so, but hung up when Lindstrom slammed her way into the reception area. Sophia could hear the detective’s shrill voice, demanding Grant get Chief St. Claire immediately.
    Grateful that Christina, who did the clerical work and disliked Lindstrom as much as she did, was away on vacation, Sophia got up and opened her door. “Detective Lindstrom? Would you like to step into my office?” She almost smiled at Grant’s obvious relief but the temptation disappeared the minute Lindstrom stalked past the three desks in the front lobby. Brown eyes sparking with indignation, she leaned forward as she charged ahead, reminding Sophia of a dog straining at a leash.
    â€œWhat happened this morning is completely unacceptable,” she said. “ Completely unacceptable.”
    â€œSo you’ve said.” Sophia told Grant to go home. It was time for him to get some rest. Then she waved Lindstrom in and motioned to a chair. “Would you like to sit down?”
    â€œNo. I still