needed. That had real effects. Now I had better wind and felt physically stronger.
“Go outside and smoke,” he said. “If I thought it’d help me get past that scene, I’d do the same.”
“I’m good.”
He laughed. “I was just thinking, won’t this make a good story on my next date?” He reached down for the starter and revved the engine.
“Especially if you never want to see her again.”
“Oh, Donner. You’re the only date I could share this fine moment with.” He batted his eyelashes.
“Harassment. Seriously. And you’re making me ill.” I put my coffee in a holder. “I’m going to start carrying a recorder in my purse.”
“Please do.”
He popped the last bite of cruller into his mouth. With his coffee in one hand, he shifted into drive and pulled out onto the street. It was just about rush hour in San Francisco, and we were headed toward the worst of it.
“So what’s next?”
“We go home for the night, come back at this again tomorrow.”
“You’re sure?”
Hendricks nodded. “What you have planned for later? Anything good?”
“Tonight? Nada. I’ll probably check email and see if I can drink myself to sleep.”
“No. No. Do something good for yourself. Clear your head after that scene at Dub’s. It’ll do us both some good.” He smiled. “Partner’s orders.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
So I followed what Hendricks said. I went home from the Hall and ate a salmon filet with a side of steamed kale and quinoa. I checked in with my online dating, saw nothing I felt any need to respond to, and left it at that.
At seven thirty, when the youth league practices ended, I was the first adult out on the basketball courts at the rec center. Dribbling my own ball, making layups from both sides, it took me only a few minutes of activity to break a sweat and start feeling better. I felt the rush of breathing hard, transitioned to knocking down jumpers from the wings and picked up the pace a notch.
Two guys came on at the other end of the court, started a game of one-on-one. I was only peripherally aware of them; my focus was on the case in the back of my head and the ball in the front. At times, the best and biggest breaks on cases or realizations of life happened while I was doing something athletic, getting my mind free and clear.
Maybe this was what Hendricks meant by doing something good for myself, clearing my head, why he’d insisted we take the night off. At the same time, if a lax attitude led to another dead scumbag, I wouldn’t be the first one to sound an alarm.
But there was something that nagged at me about it. I spiked the ball with my fist; it bounced up hard, just missing my face.
“Hey, watch out there.”
I turned and saw Alan standing before me. He and a few of his friends had just arrived. No Mustache, but I recognized one of the others from our game.
“Hi. Yeah, don’t want to hurt the ball, do I?”
He smiled. “To say nothing of your face.”
I could feel myself blush, which made me say something fast: “Not that.”
“Listen, I—” He paused, and in that moment, my phone rang. I had set it on a bleacher under the basket. That was part of the job: to stay by the phone. We were, after all, still on call.
The ringer chimed again.
“That’s your phone?”
If Lund and Peters were dodging another body, I would kill them.
I said, “I should get that,” and jogged over to it. Picking it up, I saw Lieutenant Bowen’s number on the screen and knew my night of relaxation had come to an end.
“Sorry.” I pushed to talk and held the phone to my ear. “Donner.”
Alan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. I hated being this girl , the one who could never give herself in to what was happening, who always had to answer her job’s call.
“We got a potential wit for your body on Ellis. Says she was on scene as it transpired and saw your suspect. You’ll want to get down here and get whatever you can from her.”
“Roger that,
“Go outside and smoke,” he said. “If I thought it’d help me get past that scene, I’d do the same.”
“I’m good.”
He laughed. “I was just thinking, won’t this make a good story on my next date?” He reached down for the starter and revved the engine.
“Especially if you never want to see her again.”
“Oh, Donner. You’re the only date I could share this fine moment with.” He batted his eyelashes.
“Harassment. Seriously. And you’re making me ill.” I put my coffee in a holder. “I’m going to start carrying a recorder in my purse.”
“Please do.”
He popped the last bite of cruller into his mouth. With his coffee in one hand, he shifted into drive and pulled out onto the street. It was just about rush hour in San Francisco, and we were headed toward the worst of it.
“So what’s next?”
“We go home for the night, come back at this again tomorrow.”
“You’re sure?”
Hendricks nodded. “What you have planned for later? Anything good?”
“Tonight? Nada. I’ll probably check email and see if I can drink myself to sleep.”
“No. No. Do something good for yourself. Clear your head after that scene at Dub’s. It’ll do us both some good.” He smiled. “Partner’s orders.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
So I followed what Hendricks said. I went home from the Hall and ate a salmon filet with a side of steamed kale and quinoa. I checked in with my online dating, saw nothing I felt any need to respond to, and left it at that.
At seven thirty, when the youth league practices ended, I was the first adult out on the basketball courts at the rec center. Dribbling my own ball, making layups from both sides, it took me only a few minutes of activity to break a sweat and start feeling better. I felt the rush of breathing hard, transitioned to knocking down jumpers from the wings and picked up the pace a notch.
Two guys came on at the other end of the court, started a game of one-on-one. I was only peripherally aware of them; my focus was on the case in the back of my head and the ball in the front. At times, the best and biggest breaks on cases or realizations of life happened while I was doing something athletic, getting my mind free and clear.
Maybe this was what Hendricks meant by doing something good for myself, clearing my head, why he’d insisted we take the night off. At the same time, if a lax attitude led to another dead scumbag, I wouldn’t be the first one to sound an alarm.
But there was something that nagged at me about it. I spiked the ball with my fist; it bounced up hard, just missing my face.
“Hey, watch out there.”
I turned and saw Alan standing before me. He and a few of his friends had just arrived. No Mustache, but I recognized one of the others from our game.
“Hi. Yeah, don’t want to hurt the ball, do I?”
He smiled. “To say nothing of your face.”
I could feel myself blush, which made me say something fast: “Not that.”
“Listen, I—” He paused, and in that moment, my phone rang. I had set it on a bleacher under the basket. That was part of the job: to stay by the phone. We were, after all, still on call.
The ringer chimed again.
“That’s your phone?”
If Lund and Peters were dodging another body, I would kill them.
I said, “I should get that,” and jogged over to it. Picking it up, I saw Lieutenant Bowen’s number on the screen and knew my night of relaxation had come to an end.
“Sorry.” I pushed to talk and held the phone to my ear. “Donner.”
Alan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. I hated being this girl , the one who could never give herself in to what was happening, who always had to answer her job’s call.
“We got a potential wit for your body on Ellis. Says she was on scene as it transpired and saw your suspect. You’ll want to get down here and get whatever you can from her.”
“Roger that,
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