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Yep, this was what she’d expected. “I thought it was optional.”
Navarro gave her his I’m-disappointed-in-you look. She was almost immune to it. “You promised,” he said. “That’s why I made it optional.”
She had promised. “I’m sorry. I just hate going.”
“None of us likes going to the department shrink, Kit, but we’ve talked about this every year for the past four. Every one of your bosses before me has talked to you about it, too. This time of year, you work yourself into near exhaustion and we all know why.”
Well, yeah. That she’d lost Wren this time of year wasn’t a secret. Especially in the homicide department.
“Working helps. And I can handle it.”
“Maybe this year you can. Maybe next year, too. But sooner or later, it will become too much. Your performance will drop. You’ll lose your edge.”
She ground her teeth. He knew her too well, because losing her edge was one of the things she feared most.
“Go to your appointments, Kit. You might be surprised. Dr.Scott may actually be able to help you.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“You mean if you don’t want to tell him anything personal?”
“Yes.” Because she didn’t. She didn’t dislike Dr.Scott. She just didn’t want to bare her soul. Like any normal person wouldn’t.
“Then you can sit and talk about your cases for an hour. It’s one hour a week, Kit. It’s not going to kill you.” He dropped his gaze to the paperwork in front of him, effectively dismissing her.
She wasted no time leaving his office.
“This anonymous guy sounds like a kook,” she grumbled to Baz when she was back at their desks. “We’ve got better things to do than chase after anonymous tips all day.”
“No, we’ve got a mountain of reports to write. It’s a beautiful day. Let’s go check it out and then we can grab some lunch.”
“It’s always a beautiful day. It’s freaking San Diego.”
“Stop whining, McKittrick. I’ve got a craving for Vietnamese.”
Rolling her eyes, Kit followed him out. “Waste of time.”
Luckily, she liked Vietnamese food.
Longview Park, San Diego, California
Monday, April 4, 5:30 p.m.
Kit pulled the handkerchief across her nose and mouth as she watched the two CSU techs meticulously uncovering what was, indeed, a grave. Based on the odor, the body had been there awhile.
They’d arrived at the mystery caller’s coordinates to find that the ground had settled somewhat, creating a slight depression that measured five and a half by two and a half feet.
Ground-penetrating radar had shown a body.
The victim had been small.
Kit slipped her hand into her pocket, finding the little cat-bird figurine. Stroking it with her thumb. Please don’t be a child.
“I hope it’s not a kid,” Baz murmured, echoing her thoughts.
All homicides were difficult. Even drug dealers murdered on the street had been loved by someone. Were missed by someone.
But the child homicides were a completely different level of hell.
