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jump on this or lose it,” she said, “so you’ll have to stand in line for a drink.”
    â€œNo problem.”
    September walked to the back of the order line, standing behind a man in a business suit with a hurried manner, and a girl tuned into her smartphone so deeply that September practically had to push her forward when it was her turn.
    She ordered a skinny latte and then waited to one side along with the other milling customers for it to be prepared. She glanced over at Gretchen, who was also studying her phone. September had been paired with the brash detective when she’d first joined the department and had been leery of Gretchen’s reputation as a bitch on wheels. There was a reason she’d gotten that label, but September had learned early on that Gretchen knew her stuff.
    Her name was called and she picked up her latte and slid across the booth from her partner. Gretchen had dark, curly hair and dark skin, a gift from her Brazilian mother, and slanted blue eyes, a gift from her father, who was, according to Gretchen, “as white bread as they come.”
    â€œSo, what’s with the Ballonni case?” Gretchen wanted to know.
    â€œD’Annibal wouldn’t like it if I talked about a case with you,” September pointed out.
    â€œYou’re going to anyway, so stop with the ‘oh, I don’t know if I should’ shit. I’m only on administrative leave because I killed the fucker who was stabbing you.”
    â€œEloquently put,” September said. “And thank you.”
    â€œYou’re welcome. So, tell me,” she urged her.
    September relented, never really intending to keep anything from Gretchen anyway. They’d been on the Ballonni case together and were likely to be on it again as soon as Gretchen was cleared for duty. She told her about finding Stefan at Twin Oaks Elementary without mentioning his relationship to her at first, but she finished with, “. . . and here’s the weird part—the victim, Stefan Harmak, is my ex-stepbrother.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œHis mother was my father’s second wife.”
    â€œHe’s your stepbrother? ”
    â€œWas,” September stressed.
    â€œIs every case about you? Jesus, Nine.” She frowned at her. “What the hell kind of thing is this?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œWho is this vigilante?” Gretchen said, gazing past September to the middle distance. “Making them write those signs? Who would do that? But your stepbrother survived.”
    â€œMaybe the guy didn’t really mean to kill Ballonni. Gotta be the same guy, though, don’t you think?”
    â€œWhat did he look like?”
    September related Stefan’s description, finishing with, “. . . not much to go on. Stefan just wants to sweep it all under the rug.”
    â€œGod, I gotta get back to the job,” Gretchen chafed. “How long does it take?”
    â€œIt’s pretty cut and dried. You killed him before he could kill me. It’s not like there’s any question about it.”
    She nodded. September wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. “So, how’s your love life?” she asked next.
    â€œI told Jake I’d move in with him.”
    She picked up on September’s careful tone. “Big step. How long have you known Westerly?”
    â€œYears. You know.”
    â€œBut, I mean, really known him. Like a month?”
    â€œWhat about you and that bartender?” September shot back.
    She made a face. “I didn’t move in with him.”
    September glanced at the time on her cell phone. “D’Anni-bal’s probably heard I’m semirelated to Stefan and wants me off the case.”
    â€œThe Ballonni case is ours,” Gretchen reminded her.
    â€œYeah, well, I’ve got to convince the lieutenant of that.”
    â€œGod, I wish I was back.”
    â€œMe, too,”