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out and eat, not to be rehabilitated. Their “safe” weekend dances were safe all right—safe for the kids to pop designer drugs.
    Maybe he’d go to the club tonight, play a little pool and pick out his new contact. It wouldn’t be hard. All he had to do was keep his eyes open for the one guy the others looked up to. There was always a pecking order. He had a hunch the highest guy in that pecking order was the one who’d set up the pharmacy hit.
    Duke knew just how to bring him into the business. Money would interest him initially, but keeping him would require something more compelling. The threat of being turned over to the cops might do it. His main man would make the initial contact and bring him in.
    He rubbed his eyes, feeling the grit from too many hours on the street. Maybe he was getting too old for this business. His mother had always warned him about burning the candle at both ends. Maybe she’d been right, ’cause he was sure feeling the heat.

 
    A ngel went quiet at the news about the kid’s gun. She sat stiffly in the chair, staring out the window, her eyes fixed on a cherry tree coming into bloom. Her dark hair hung in damp ringlets that dripped water down her back. She wished she could think of something to say. She hoped Joe would tell her it would work out okay, but they both knew the opposite was true.
    “What now?” She turned to him, knowing her eyes and voice betrayed her, making her sound vulnerable and afraid.
    “I’ll have to put you on administrative leave.”
    She nodded. He was going to have to find an officer to replace her. Unfortunately, there was no money in their already overextended budget.
    “I suppose you’ll want my key to the evidence lockers,” Angel said.
    He nodded, and she removed the key from her key chain and set it next to the urine sample.
    Joe pulled open the top side drawer of his desk and moved papers aside—probably thinking he’d have been better off not hiring Angel in the first place. She knew he’d hired her as a favor to her father. Frank Delaney had asked Joe to offer her a job after one of their guys had been killed in a domesticviolence case a little over a year ago. The police chief had done it as a favor, but Angel had been more than qualified.
    And she’d proven herself, especially with her negotiation skills in domestic violence cases. She could take care of herself. She could and would get through this.
    Apparently finding what he’d been looking for, Joe pulled a card out of a banded pack. “I want you to see a psychologist. Dr. Campbell has worked with officers in the past.”
    “I don’t need—”
    “No is not an option,” Joe snapped. “Seeing a shrink in a case like this is standard protocol, and you know it.”
    She did, but she didn’t like it.
    “Call. The sooner the better.”
    Angel took the card.
    “You’ll make an appointment?”
    “Yes.”
    “You shouldn’t be alone,” Joe said. “Do you need someone to give you a ride home?”
    “That won’t be necessary.” She looked him in the eye. “I’m fine.”
    “You don’t look fine.”
    She sucked in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “How do you expect me to look? I just shot a—” The words caught in her throat, and she ducked her head.
    “Look, Angel, I don’t mean to seem hard-nosed about this, but I know what can happen in cases like this. One guy I worked with in Portland a few years back accidentally killed another officer. Took it so hard he committed suicide. I don’t want that happening to you. You need support. Family.”
    Her spine went rigid as he spoke. “I’m not going to kill myself.”
    “Good. Now go home.”
    “I’d like to finish my report first.” She started for the door.
    “You don’t need to write this up. Your statement will be in Detective Riley’s report.” Joe cleared his throat.
    She looked back at him. “Did you want something else?”
    “No, I’m just... I’m sorry this happened to you.” For a moment he