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FIVE

    LATER—MUCH LATER—at her car, I kissed Shannon goodbye with a promise I’d call. I was almost certain I’d keep it too, then I headed to the office. Lieutenant Carr’s truck was in its spot next to the sheriff’s. I almost turned around and drove back home.
    Marge was at the front desk. “Morning Detective,” she said, lowering her reading glasses to look at me.
    “It’s Saturday, Marge. Shouldn’t you be off today?”
    She slid a long silver letter opener into the flap of an envelope and sliced it open. “Well, I should be, but I’m not. Are you here because of the robbery?”
    I rolled my eyes as I passed by her desk. “I’m here to keep the lieutenant off my ass.”
    She smirked. “Good luck with that.”
    The office was hopping when I walked through the door. I tried to slip across the room unnoticed, but Reese spotted me from the coffee pot. “McNamara!” he boomed.
    I closed my eyes and silently cursed.
    He walked toward me, coffee in hand, chuckling to himself.  
    At the same time, Carr’s head popped out of the doorway to his office. “Detective, I’d like to see you,” he called to me.
    I knocked Reese in the arm with my shoulder as I passed him. “I hate you, dude.”
    “He can smell fear, Nate,” he warned.
    Over my shoulder, I shot him the bird.
    Taking a deep breath, I stepped into Carr’s office. “Morning, Lieutenant.”
    Carr was walking back around behind his desk. “Nice of you to join us today, Nathan.”
    “I’ve worked almost seventy hours this week, sir,” I said.
    He cut his eyes up at me. “Is that an excuse?”
    I shook my head. “No, sir. Just a fact.”
    “Do you know how many hours I’ve worked this week, Detective?” He folded his hands on top of his desk.
    “Nope.”
    “More than you.”
    I cringed with mock sympathy. “Then I feel sorry for your wife.”
    His eyes narrowed. “Get out of my office.”
    “Yes, sir,” I said, not waiting for him to change his mind.
    Reese was chuckling outside my office door when I walked back out. “Are you trying to get me fired?” I pulled out my key ring.
    “If you do get fired, that look on your face earlier was so worth it,” he said. “Where’ve you been all morning?”
    “Home.” I unlocked my office door and flipped on the light as Reese followed me in carrying a brown file folder. “I don’t understand why it’s implied that I’m not doing my job if I’m not here twenty-four hours a day.”
    Reese sat down in the chair. “You know it’s just politics. Lots of money and press putting pressure on this case.”
    “So, what’s the story on this one?” I turned on my laptop.
      He crossed his boot over his knee and used his leg as a desk. He rifled through the papers in the folder. “Our latest victims are Max and Juliette Carrera. They own the Chevy dealership out off of Riker Boulevard. Thanks to the little bit of rain yesterday evening, our guys confirmed two sets of muddy footprints in the foyer of the home. Size ten and size ten and a half. The thieves stole $7,000 from a wall safe inside the home office.” Reese leaned forward. “They also took an antique 1853 engraved Remington revolver valued at ten G’s.”
    I sat back in my seat. “Really? That’s new.”
    He nodded. “The owner said it was stored in the safe with the money. I think Max was more upset about the gun than anything.”
    I blew out a sigh. “I would be too.” I looked up at the clock on the wall. “Wanna take a ride out there?”
    Reese closed the folder and nodded. “Sure.”
    Standing up, I put my keys in my pocket. “You can drive.”  
    I rode shotgun in Reese’s unmarked sedan across town to the Carreras’ home and went through our database files on his mounted laptop to see—again—if I’d missed anything. While I searched, I filled him in on the details of my evening with Shannon and the ensuing morning after.  
    He grinned over his shoulder as he pulled into the golf course community.