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“Really?” Pro brightened.
“But not on this case,” Chu chided. “The LT gave us until Tuesday, but I’m going in first thing tomorrow and asking for this case to be reassigned. Your instincts are not working because of your personal involvement.”
Pro’s mouth became a hard line. “I’ve never asked to be reassigned from any case, Tom.”
“I know. I admire your dogged determination and the fact that you don’t give up, believe me I do,” Chu put his hand on her shoulder and gazed into her blue eyes. “But there is a reason detectives don’t work on cases that are this close to home. As human beings, we just can’t do it. Not even you.”
“You’re right,” Pro said and clamped her teeth down to push back the tears that wanted to fall. “I’ll do what you think is best, Tom.”
“Okay. I think you should take tomorrow off. Unwind, relax, do something else. And then we can start Tuesday with a new case that’s just simple, like a plain old jealo
us lover or something.”
This got a grin from Pro. “Thanks for covering for me, partner.”
Chu shrugged. “It’s what we do.”
Pro took the elevator down, her mind reeling. She felt like a total failure. She’d let her father play with her emotions, and because of it, three people were dead, and she should’ve stopped him after the first one.
What she wanted to do was ask that handsome guard out, get drunk, and show him a night they’d both never forget. But she knew that plan wasn’t a good one, either. She just wanted a distraction from what she was feeling.
The doors opened to the lobby, and Pro noted that night had fallen. She saw Luther at the front desk as Jorge was explaining the situation to a distraught tenant who was wearing only a housedress and slippers.
“Really, Mrs. Henley, you are perfectly safe.”
The white-haired woman went on with an annoying whine. “A man is killed in this building and you say I’m safe. How did he get in? I want to know—”
With the noise going on, Pro went to the desk, and Luther looked up. He smiled his endearing smile. “I made sure your guy got copies of all the tapes, detective.”
“I’m…uh…sure you did,” Pro said, suddenly tongue-tied after her lusty thoughts in the elevator. “I just wanted to…uh…thank you for all you did. You were a great help.”
“My dad was a beat cop. I have a lot of appreciation for cops.”
“Really?” Pro said, and found her hand went up to primp her hair. “My dad was, too—I mean, my stepdad. But he’s the one who raised me.”
“Seems like we got a lot in common, detective.”
Pro stood in wonder. Honestly, the man had a voice like Barry White and Luther Vandross rolled into one.
Pro reached into her bag and extracted her card. “If…uh… anything comes up—” she blushed at the accidental double-entendre. “I mean, if you hear anything, please call me.”
He nodded. “I’ll do that, detective.”
“And…umm…if you’re not married or anything—” she fumbled. “You’re not married, are you?”
The smile grew broader and sexier. “No, I’m not, detective.”
“Oh good…I mean…as long as you’re…I mean,” Pro stopped herself and took a deep breath. “If you’d like to do something sometime or want to talk about anything other than work, that would be nice, too.”
“That sounds real good, detective.” He held out his hand and Pro gave it a quick shake, but he held onto it for a moment. “I’m very glad I met you, Detective Thompson.”
He released her hand, and Pro smiled and headed past Mrs. Hanley who was still complaining to Jorgé.
The crisp spring air only bolstered the strange combination of emotions that were shooting through her nervous system, as she headed for the subway to take the train up to her mother’s apartment.
888
Fifteen minutes later, she phoned her mother as she returned to the sidewalk from the underground ride.
