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card and handed it to the blonde.
    “Call me if you hear something, okay? Streets aren’t safe for you girls right now. You need to be careful who you pick up,” she said.
    “So what’s new?”

Chapter Eight
    Samantha was late. She’d spent the weekend at Robert’s but had planned on going home Sunday. He’d talked her into staying. She’d barely had time to run home and shower, then she caught the morning traffic. Now it was eight-fifteen and she hurried into the squad room, tossing a quick “good morning” to Sergeant Fisk as she passed by.
    “Sorry I’m late,” she said to Tori as she pulled out her chair.
    “No problem.”
    “Did you have a good weekend?” she asked. She’d told herself she was going to attempt to get along with Hunter. And she was determined to draw her partner out. Whatever the consequences.
    “It was lovely,” Tori said dryly. “You?”
    Samantha was startled by the question.
    “Yes. Caught up on sleep,” she offered.
    “Is that why you’re late? Slept in?”
    Samantha smiled. “No. I was at Robert’s. Had to swing by my apartment this morning.”
    Tori nodded. She would make an effort. She had spent all day Sunday on her boat. She had fished and relaxed. And she told herself that she was being too hard on Samantha. What would it hurt to open up a little?
    “The boyfriend. Is it serious?”
    Samantha stared. Tori was actually asking a personal question. Whatever in the world was wrong with her?
    “Not marriage serious,” she said, leaning forward. “What’s wrong with you?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Body snatchers?”
    Tori smiled. “Yes. Don’t worry. They’ll return my evil twin by afternoon.”
    “Hunter, Kennedy. In here.”
    They both looked up as Malone stuck his head out of his office. They looked back at each other and shrugged.
    “What’s up?” Tori asked as she took one of the chairs in front of his desk.
    “How’s your Jane Doe?”
    “Dead end. No one’s talking. Can’t find Ramon Blackmon. As far as I know, he’s just a name.”
    “And the girls?”
    “No ID. No priors.”
    “Okay. CIU is requesting bodies. They got another terrorist alert. Oil and gas this time. There’s an old gas pipeline company east of the city. It’s spread over about twenty acres. It’s one of three that aren’t in use right now. They need a hand checking them out. I’ve sent Donaldson and Adams out to Mesquite. You guys run by there, make sure everything’s quiet.”
    “It’s not like we don’t have a case, Lieutenant,” Tori said. “Can’t the local sheriff do it?”
    “Your case is a dead end, Hunter. You said so yourself. Besides, Sikes and Ramirez are both out. It’ll just take an hour to drive out there. Make sure nothing’s going on, no vehicles, no activity. Report to CIU and head back. Simple.”
    “If it’s so simple, why aren’t they doing it?”
    “Because they’ve got their hands full with the ones that are active, Hunter. That’s obviously the most likely target. But we all know that the ones that are shut down still have tons of shit underground. It’s not like they secure the area when they close up shop.”
    “Four thousand cops on the force and it falls to Homicide?”
    “Give me a break, Hunter. I’m just following orders.”
    “Come on, Tori. It’ll be fun. Give us a chance to talk,” Samantha said.
    “Fun? Talk?” She followed Samantha out the door. “Sam, just because we had a little chat this morning, doesn’t really change anything. I’m still a bitch.”
    “Oh, I don’t doubt that for a minute. And I’d hardly call that a chat.”
    Tori allowed a smile to touch her face, one she kept hidden from Samantha. She rapped her knuckles on the counter. “Fisk? Lieutenant’s sending us to damn near Terrell. You got a Lexus or something gassed up and ready to go?”
    “Sure, Hunter. Why don’t you just take the Mercedes?” He grabbed keys off the rack and tossed them to her. “213. Bring it back in one