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I looked over my shoulder. Officer Ruby Lee, whom I had met while I was in the hospital and talked with several times, walked off the elevator toward me. I almost hadn’t recognized her because she wasn’t in uniform. She wore khaki pants and a white Oxford shirt buttoned almost all the way up. Her slick, dark hair was still pulled back and secured in a severe bun.
She had lovely features and searing blue eyes, yet she still dressed like a man when she wasn’t in uniform. To each her own.
“Officer Lee, what are you doing here?”
She smiled broadly. “It’s Detective Lee now.”
“Oh. Congratulations. I was wondering why you weren’t in uniform.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” she said.
“I didn’t expect to be here either. But here I am. Why put this off, you know? It’s not going to get any easier.”
“Well, don’t let me bother you. I was going to look around. I want to make sure the uniforms and the others didn’t miss anything.”
“Anything new on the case? Do you have any leads?”
“No. I’m afraid not. I’ve talked to just about everyone I can, even though this isn’t officially my case anymore. In fact, I probably shouldn’t even be here. I’m off duty. But something about this case…”
I startled. “What?”
She shook her head. “It’s kind of…personal to me. Let’s leave it at that.”
I was a psychotherapist. I couldn’t leave anything “at that.”
“Make yourself at home, such that it is. If you’re here to help, you’re certainly welcome.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” She followed me into the loft.
The place was still in shambles. Of course it was. The police department wasn’t going to hire a cleaning service to clean up after a felon—or themselves, for that matter. I regarded the living room. My sofa had been ripped apart, and I darted my gaze to the floor. My book sat there, nearly hidden by the sofa’s dust ruffle. I picked it up and turned it over to see the front cover.
Ice crept through my veins. “Bitch” had been scrawled across it in black marker.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” the other woman said, taking it from me.
“It’s all right, Officer. I mean Detective.”
She smiled. “How about we just settle on Ruby?”
I returned her smile. “Then you call me Melanie.”
She held out her hand. “Deal.” Then she took the book from me. “This should have been taken in as evidence. Damn. And I’m not wearing gloves.”
“I guess it has both your prints and mine on it now. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be sorry. None of this is your fault. The guys on this case will be hearing from me.” She shook her head. “Morons.”
I cocked my head at her.
“Sorry. They’re overworked, just like we all are. And since you got away and aren’t horribly hurt or dead, this case isn’t a priority. I wish it were, but unfortunately, our resources are limited.”
I sighed. Story of my life. Never a priority.
Stop it!
I’d made a promise to myself to stop thinking of myself as average, and damn it, I was going to keep that vow, no matter how neglectful my parents had been or how neglectful the police were being now.
“I think it’s sad that my case isn’t a big priority, but I guess I understand.” I looked around the room again. “I don’t think I want any of this stuff. I’ll get some insurance money for what’s been ruined. I’ll use that to buy new stuff. I think I’ll call a charity and have the rest of this shit picked up.” I whipped out my cell phone and quickly searched for the number for the Salvation Army.
