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over much of the hard labor of running the bar, things Dooley should have stopped doing years before like swapping out kegs and getting on the floor to fix the plumbing. Without Mack, Shauna suspected Dooley would have retired years ago. Mack kept Dooley’s alive.
    An hour after she first sat under the tree, John Black finally drove into the parking lot. It was already after one in the afternoon, and Shauna was sweating from the heat, even in her shaded spot.
    She strode over to him, hot and crabby and ready for answers.
    “Detective,” she said, “I need a minute.”
    He seemed surprised to see her. He glanced at the tree, then back at her. She put her hands on her hips—she wasn’t going to be brushed off.
    “That’s about all I have,” he said and motioned for her to follow him into the station.
    “Then I won’t waste your time,” she said. A wave of artificially cool air assaulted her damp skin. She shivered as she followed Black. “I read every article on the downtown robberies and there are hardly any similarities between them and Mack’s murder. Three key differences—the robberies targeted liquor stores and bars only—no restaurants, like Dooley’s pub. Second, the injuries to the clerks were minimal—no one required hospitalization. And third, all the robberies took place east of 10 th Street and west of Business-80—a tight area of about two square miles. Dooley’s is a full mile west of 10 th . According to Smith’s Crime Blotter—”
    “Don’t use him as a source.” Black scowled as he opened a door that led to the main squad room. “It’s not going to help your case.”
    Shauna wasn’t put off as she followed him. “ He wrote that the thieves only took cash and alcohol, and the gang unit believes that the crimes are part of the DT Gang.”
    Black motioned for her to sit as his desk. She did, though she couldn’t keep still. She tapped her fingers over the files spilling over his inbox.
    “ADHD?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
    She put her hands in her lap. “Forget the Blotter , okay? I don’t think those gangbangers are the same guys who killed Mack. And I talked to the owners of the two sports memorabilia stores in the area, and they both said no one—”
    “You what? ”
    Black was angry. Shauna backpedaled just a bit. “I know them both. Dooley is friends with them, okay? One of them authenticated his baseballs. They’ll recognize them if someone tries to sell them.”
    “Ms. Murphy, not only could you jeopardize this entire investigation, but you could get hurt. What do I need to say to convince you I’m qualified? Show you my pay stubs going back nineteen years? Show you my college diploma? My ranking when I graduated from the police academy? Figure out my stats for clearing cases?”
    He had a point. “I just want to know you’re not brushing this under the rug or dismissing any of the facts. You didn’t seem to be listening about the baseballs, and I think it’s important.”
    He breathed deeply and slowly let it out. “I am not dismissing anything . I want to find Mack Duncan’s killer. I want to put him in jail. That’s my job, and I’m very good at it.”
    “Okay. Thank you.” Shauna stood up. “About the baseballs—”
    “ What , Ms. Murphy?”
    “Just so you know, I left photos of them with the two sports guys. The same photos I emailed to you along with the copy of Dooley’s insurance statement. Thomas Miller and Kurt Sutton. Miller is in West Sacramento, and Sutton is down on 56 th . They’re the only ones who trade in baseballs like this. They might be worth talking to, since they know all the private collectors and—” Shauna saw by the look on Black’s face that she needed to get out of there. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
    “I’ll call you, Ms. Murphy, when I have news.”
    She smiled warmly, hoping to smooth things over. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ll be at Dooley’s this week, helping my granddad.” She walked across the