Read Online Command Indecision (Lexi Graves Mysteries) by Camilla Chafer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Camilla Chafer
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If we work it that Tate is not our killer, for no other reason than Mitch thinks not," said Solomon, waiting for me to nod, "then our alternate suspect is also known to Jillian. She wasn’t afraid of him, but perhaps she said something that antagonized him. He grabs something and attacks her, walks out, probably not in uniform, and takes the weapon with him."
I recalled dozens of conversations over family dinners where police cases were discussed, eyes rolling, enthusiasm high and a thought caught. "I just thought of something. He takes the weapon because he doesn't want to be connected to the crime, but he's not worried about his fingerprints being in the office. He hasn't taken the time to clean the place down. The report says there was a lot to process. Lots of fingerprints. "
Solomon gave me an approving nod. This time when he smiled, his eyes flashed . "He's a regular. He expects his fingerprints not to be out of p lace." The smile dropped, and with a flick of his head, he motioned for m e to follow. As we strolled in the direction of the apartment , following our own footsteps, he said, "This is worrying."
"Murder usually is."
"Actually, I was thinking it's more worrying in th at our unknown could be anybody who regularly comes by the office. A civilian or personnel. "
I sighed. It didn’t narrow it down much. "This sucks."
"You sure you want to take this job tomorrow?" Solomon asked, his voice soft, only the merest trace of worry evident.
I bristled, imagining but failing, him asking any of my male colleagues the same question. I thought we'd gotten past this once I started bringing in, as well as solving, my own cases. I'd gotten their respect as far as I could see. Why not Solomon's? There was no way I was flaking out of an undercover job on the first day just because there was a murderer around. I knew when I took this job that it wouldn’t be all surveillance and filling out paperwork. I knew there would be situations that would test me. Shying away from them wouldn’t just make me look weak, it would embarrass my internal attainment targets.
"No problem," I said , trying not to sound snippy, as I smoothed my hair behind my ears . "Maybe her colleagues know more than they think they do."
Solomon caught me by the forearm, stopping me, and I turned to face him. I brushed a stray strand of hair out of my face. "I wasn't questioning your competence," he said.
"No?"
He looked at me, his face hardening, like he was pissed off, and I felt myself drawing away, recoiling slightly . "No."
"No problem then," I repeated. "And you know how much I love temping."
A smile lit on his lips and I had to turn away before my heart skipped a beat. After a couple of paces, he caught up to me, slinging an arm casually around my shoulders. "Yeah," he said, holding his hand up and crossing his fingers in front of us, the metal of his wedding band gleaming. "You and filing are like that."
Chapter Five
The best thing about being a private investigator is getting to do a bunch of different things and no two days are alike. In any given week, I could be conducting surveillance, following a person around in my car (which is dull and if it lasts longer than two hours, I always need to pee) pretending I'm Knightrider, covertly interviewing witnesses, or runnin g through a ton of paperwork—blech— trying to fit puzzle pieces together. Plus, I g et to sleep in late and get a completion bonus, which is Solomon's version of both a pat on the head and a worthless plastic, commemorative trophy for being a team player. Having been a recipient of a worthless trophy in a past job, Solomon's incentives work much better.
The downside is that I seem to get stuck with undercover office temp duty more often than I care to think about. Mostly it’s because my colleagues, with the exception of Lucas, who looks like a surfer, all look like brutes. When Solomon asked me to join the team, he told me it was because no one
I recalled dozens of conversations over family dinners where police cases were discussed, eyes rolling, enthusiasm high and a thought caught. "I just thought of something. He takes the weapon because he doesn't want to be connected to the crime, but he's not worried about his fingerprints being in the office. He hasn't taken the time to clean the place down. The report says there was a lot to process. Lots of fingerprints. "
Solomon gave me an approving nod. This time when he smiled, his eyes flashed . "He's a regular. He expects his fingerprints not to be out of p lace." The smile dropped, and with a flick of his head, he motioned for m e to follow. As we strolled in the direction of the apartment , following our own footsteps, he said, "This is worrying."
"Murder usually is."
"Actually, I was thinking it's more worrying in th at our unknown could be anybody who regularly comes by the office. A civilian or personnel. "
I sighed. It didn’t narrow it down much. "This sucks."
"You sure you want to take this job tomorrow?" Solomon asked, his voice soft, only the merest trace of worry evident.
I bristled, imagining but failing, him asking any of my male colleagues the same question. I thought we'd gotten past this once I started bringing in, as well as solving, my own cases. I'd gotten their respect as far as I could see. Why not Solomon's? There was no way I was flaking out of an undercover job on the first day just because there was a murderer around. I knew when I took this job that it wouldn’t be all surveillance and filling out paperwork. I knew there would be situations that would test me. Shying away from them wouldn’t just make me look weak, it would embarrass my internal attainment targets.
"No problem," I said , trying not to sound snippy, as I smoothed my hair behind my ears . "Maybe her colleagues know more than they think they do."
Solomon caught me by the forearm, stopping me, and I turned to face him. I brushed a stray strand of hair out of my face. "I wasn't questioning your competence," he said.
"No?"
He looked at me, his face hardening, like he was pissed off, and I felt myself drawing away, recoiling slightly . "No."
"No problem then," I repeated. "And you know how much I love temping."
A smile lit on his lips and I had to turn away before my heart skipped a beat. After a couple of paces, he caught up to me, slinging an arm casually around my shoulders. "Yeah," he said, holding his hand up and crossing his fingers in front of us, the metal of his wedding band gleaming. "You and filing are like that."
Chapter Five
The best thing about being a private investigator is getting to do a bunch of different things and no two days are alike. In any given week, I could be conducting surveillance, following a person around in my car (which is dull and if it lasts longer than two hours, I always need to pee) pretending I'm Knightrider, covertly interviewing witnesses, or runnin g through a ton of paperwork—blech— trying to fit puzzle pieces together. Plus, I g et to sleep in late and get a completion bonus, which is Solomon's version of both a pat on the head and a worthless plastic, commemorative trophy for being a team player. Having been a recipient of a worthless trophy in a past job, Solomon's incentives work much better.
The downside is that I seem to get stuck with undercover office temp duty more often than I care to think about. Mostly it’s because my colleagues, with the exception of Lucas, who looks like a surfer, all look like brutes. When Solomon asked me to join the team, he told me it was because no one
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