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and felt sparks ignite inside me. It continued to amaze me that Derek seemed to have the same reaction to me as I had to him. I hugged him a little tighter, then reluctantly pulled away. There was something wrong about snuggling within a few feet of a dead body.
    On the other hand, there was a dead body just a few feet away, so what better time to seek comfort? I rested my head against his chest and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. We stayed like that for a few minutes while the muted voices of the two officers in the other room wafted toward us. I couldn’t hear what they were saying and didn’t really want to. I just wished Derek and I could walk out the door and go home.
    But no such luck. The front door swung open and SFPD Detective Inspector Janice Lee walked inside. “Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite dead-body magnet.”
    I cringed. She didn’t mince words. But at least I was her favorite.
    “Commander Stone,” she said, greeting Derek in a more respectful tone. He had been, after all, a member of law enforcement.
    “Hello, Inspector,” Derek said pleasantly, as I buried my face in the lapel of his thousand-dollar suit. I wasn’t shy; I just didn’t think it would be wise to flash her the dirty look I had on my face in response to her smart-ass comment.
    After a few more seconds, I calmed my features, turned, and smiled tightly. “Hi, Inspector. Long time, no see.”
    “Not long enough, Wainwright,” she said, smirking, then sobered up and glanced around the front room of Joe’s shop. Janice Lee was a first-generation Chinese American woman who took care of her mom, dressed way too fashionably for a cop, and had the most beautiful hair I’d ever seen. Lately, she was always sucking on a mint, probably to keep from smoking, a habit she’d given up only a few months ago. She was about my age, tall, thin, smart, and snarky, and I liked her a lot. We could’ve been great friends if only I weren’t such a dead-body magnet, as she’d pointed out.
    “Figures we’d be surrounded by books,” she muttered, peering around at the bookshelves. “So where’s the body?”
    “Right through there,” I said, gesturing toward the antiquarian room.
    She pulled her notepad out of the pocket of her gorgeous black Burberry trench coat. I was the furthest thing from a fashion maven, but I knew it was Burberry because I could see the coat’s signature plaid lining when she moved. Forgive my weakness at a moment like this, but I was having trench coat envy.
    “Stick around, Brooklyn,” she said. “I’m looking forward to hearing all the gory details on this one.” Then she strolled off down the narrow center aisle to check out the crime scene.
    By late afternoon, I’d given Inspector Lee and her partner, Inspector Nathan Jaglom, every ounce of information I could think of, right down to which art-supply stores I’d purchased my own inexpensive, square-bladed shearing knives at. Several uniformed officers had left to canvass the neighborhood for possible witnesses, and the medical examiner had taken Joe’s body away.
    After Inspector Lee told us she’d be in touch, Derek walked me to my car. Good thing, too, because I had a flat tire.
    “Damn it. This day just gets better and better.” I stomped over to the driver’s side and squatted next tothe tire. It wasn’t just flat; it looked like it had been slashed by something sharp. Had I run over something on the way to Joe’s?
    “Don’t touch anything,” Derek said abruptly, and yanked me back up. That was when I noticed the object sticking out of the tread. It looked like the handle of a small knife.
    “You’ve got to be kidding,” I said, thoroughly disgusted and, yeah, frightened.
    “Somebody’s not kidding,” Derek muttered, grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the street, onto the sidewalk. He called Inspector Lee immediately. He caught her just as she was driving away from Joe’s, and she said she’d meet us in less than a