common knowledge. This case is likely to set precedents. The agency feels our experience could be valuable to you.”
Oh, my. Lily’s lips twitched.
Captain Randall’s gaze swung to her. “Something funny, Yu?”
Her sense of humor was going to get her in trouble yet. “I just realized that these gentlemen are offering to be expert consultants.”
“That’s right.” Croft smiled at her.
He really did have a nice smile. “It, ah, struck me as funny. You see, I ran late because Rule Turner made me the same offer. We have a meet set up. He wants to instruct me about lupus customs.”
Croft tensed, as if he were coming to attention sitting down. “Rule Turner? The Nokolai heir?”
Could there be two people with that name? “Yes.”
Croft and Karonski exchanged another of those looks. Captain Randall said, “Turner’s a suspect.”
“Yes, sir. It generally pays to let suspects talk as much as they like.”
Karonski looked irritated—but that seemed to be his normal expression. “Turner didn’t kill Fuentes.”
She decided to let her eyebrows do the talking for her.
“I suppose you have to consider him a suspect,” Croft conceded. “But it’s unlikely he’s guilty. First, lupi are not sexually possessive, so the motive doesn’t work. Second, if he’d killed Fuentes, you’d never have found the body.”
“You know him?”
“We have a dossier on him that you might want to look at.”
“That would be useful. Thanks.”
“You want to read it before you talk to him.” Karonski had a way of leaning his upper body toward her as if he wanted to grab her and make her agree. “You need to know what you’re dealing with.”
Randall looked at him with open dislike. “Maybe the two of you could leave that file with us and make an appointment to brief Detective Yu later. Right now, I need to talk to her about her caseload.”
They didn’t look happy about the dismissal, but there wasn’t much they could do except leave. Lily wondered what lay behind Randall’s antagonism—it seemed like more than the usual territorial wariness. Maybe he had a history with one of them, some old case where they’d clashed? Or maybe Karonski just rubbed him the wrong way. The man was intense.
Both men stood. Croft dug into a leather briefcase and pulled out a fat folder. “These are copies, so you can keep them.”
She stood, to be polite, and accepted the file. “Thanks. I’m likely to be tied up until midafternoon, I’m afraid. Three o’clock okay?”
“That works.” Croft held out his hand. “We’ll meet you here.”
They shook hands, then she held her hand out to Karonski . . . and got her next big surprise of the day. This one didn’t send her into a sexual trance, but it sure did raise questions.
A witch. Karonski was a practicing witch.
The door shut behind the two agents. “What’s your caseload?” Randall asked. “You ready to close on anything?”
She jerked her attention back. “The Meyers case. Valencia, too, I think. I’m waiting on lab results on two others. The rest,” she admitted, “are pretty cold.”
“Keep the cold cases. They won’t distract you. Pass the others on. Give the Meyers case to Lauren. She wants to make detective, so she needs the experience—and something more to complain about,” he said with the ghost of a smile.
“But . . .” But they were her cases.
He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over the little potbelly that never got bigger or smaller. “You’re ambitious. That’s not a bad thing. But you’re part of a team here. You’ve got a good record. Letting someone else get the credit for closing a couple of your cases won’t hurt you. You’ll get plenty of shine if you nail Fuentes’s killer, and that’s where I want you focused. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.” But he was wrong. She didn’t want to keep the cases so she could hog the credit. Well, yes, she did want credit for her work, but . . . but that wasn’t the main
Oh, my. Lily’s lips twitched.
Captain Randall’s gaze swung to her. “Something funny, Yu?”
Her sense of humor was going to get her in trouble yet. “I just realized that these gentlemen are offering to be expert consultants.”
“That’s right.” Croft smiled at her.
He really did have a nice smile. “It, ah, struck me as funny. You see, I ran late because Rule Turner made me the same offer. We have a meet set up. He wants to instruct me about lupus customs.”
Croft tensed, as if he were coming to attention sitting down. “Rule Turner? The Nokolai heir?”
Could there be two people with that name? “Yes.”
Croft and Karonski exchanged another of those looks. Captain Randall said, “Turner’s a suspect.”
“Yes, sir. It generally pays to let suspects talk as much as they like.”
Karonski looked irritated—but that seemed to be his normal expression. “Turner didn’t kill Fuentes.”
She decided to let her eyebrows do the talking for her.
“I suppose you have to consider him a suspect,” Croft conceded. “But it’s unlikely he’s guilty. First, lupi are not sexually possessive, so the motive doesn’t work. Second, if he’d killed Fuentes, you’d never have found the body.”
“You know him?”
“We have a dossier on him that you might want to look at.”
“That would be useful. Thanks.”
“You want to read it before you talk to him.” Karonski had a way of leaning his upper body toward her as if he wanted to grab her and make her agree. “You need to know what you’re dealing with.”
Randall looked at him with open dislike. “Maybe the two of you could leave that file with us and make an appointment to brief Detective Yu later. Right now, I need to talk to her about her caseload.”
They didn’t look happy about the dismissal, but there wasn’t much they could do except leave. Lily wondered what lay behind Randall’s antagonism—it seemed like more than the usual territorial wariness. Maybe he had a history with one of them, some old case where they’d clashed? Or maybe Karonski just rubbed him the wrong way. The man was intense.
Both men stood. Croft dug into a leather briefcase and pulled out a fat folder. “These are copies, so you can keep them.”
She stood, to be polite, and accepted the file. “Thanks. I’m likely to be tied up until midafternoon, I’m afraid. Three o’clock okay?”
“That works.” Croft held out his hand. “We’ll meet you here.”
They shook hands, then she held her hand out to Karonski . . . and got her next big surprise of the day. This one didn’t send her into a sexual trance, but it sure did raise questions.
A witch. Karonski was a practicing witch.
The door shut behind the two agents. “What’s your caseload?” Randall asked. “You ready to close on anything?”
She jerked her attention back. “The Meyers case. Valencia, too, I think. I’m waiting on lab results on two others. The rest,” she admitted, “are pretty cold.”
“Keep the cold cases. They won’t distract you. Pass the others on. Give the Meyers case to Lauren. She wants to make detective, so she needs the experience—and something more to complain about,” he said with the ghost of a smile.
“But . . .” But they were her cases.
He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over the little potbelly that never got bigger or smaller. “You’re ambitious. That’s not a bad thing. But you’re part of a team here. You’ve got a good record. Letting someone else get the credit for closing a couple of your cases won’t hurt you. You’ll get plenty of shine if you nail Fuentes’s killer, and that’s where I want you focused. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.” But he was wrong. She didn’t want to keep the cases so she could hog the credit. Well, yes, she did want credit for her work, but . . . but that wasn’t the main
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