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“Huh?”
“Well, you must have had a talk with him, told him to take it easy on me. There’s no lighting a fire under him.”
“He doesn’t have enthusiasm for the job?”
“Not what I meant.”
“Ah, you’ve done your best to provoke him and it hasn’t worked.”
She smirked and hitched her shoulders. “Maybe.”
“Why am I not surprised?” He laughed, which somehow after yesterday’s events sounded sweeter than ever. “I think it’s a Steele family trait. Your father, as much as I like and respect the man, made me want to punch him more than once.”
“I’m pretty sure you actually did once.” She buried her smile in the lip of her coffee cup.
Malone held up an index finger.
Amanda went on. “Well, if you didn’t talk to Trent, he’s got to be the most laid-back rookie ever. Usually they’re all gung-ho and eager to go in guns blazing— Oh.”
Malone seemed to watch her as her own realization struck.
“He told me he was shot.”
He held up two fingers. “Twice. One round to his shoulder, another to his chest. He was damn lucky.”
“I’d say.” It would seem Trent had a way of downplaying his incident with a gunman too.
“That changes a person.”
She simply nodded, remembering how he’d told her that he carried that day with him.
“But enough about Trent. We need to talk about yesterday, Amanda.”
She’d figured the diversion wouldn’t last forever. She drank some coffee and tried to gather her thoughts. “It’s just… Hill got me so mad.” So much for articulation.
“I can’t have my detectives tossing their badge like that. I need to know I can count on them to do their jobs.”
“You have my word.”
Malone clasped his hands on his lap, wet his lips, and nodded. “Very well. Now, do you have your alibi for me?”
“Not quite yet. But should be very soon.”
Malone sighed. “I don’t know what you expect from me.”
“Actually,” she started, “I need to talk to you about something very important and urgent.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to try to sweet-talk your way back onto the case? I can’t let it happen. You know that.”
“I know, but what you don’t know is Palmer was booked with a silver bracelet when he went to prison.”
“And the big deal is…?”
“There was a data chip in the clasp that contains an inventory of girls.”
Malone’s eyes widened. “Girls? A sex-trafficking ring? No.” He shook his head. “I don’t see Chad Palmer being involved with that.”
“Neither do I, but Trent’s going to poke around, talk to a few of Palmer’s associates again and pressure them.”
