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Hallie had babysat his girl for him a time or two when she’d been a teenager. A good girl; he’d always thought so. Girl was damned beautiful now, too, but so reserved a man couldn’t get close to her. Shame. He’d seen them try through the years.
None had succeeded.
Other than McKellen anyway. McKellen was always around her and had been for years.
Sol just watched her. And remembered the little girl she had been.
Then remembered his own.
And all the things she would never be.
When the guy in charge of Homicide now rumbled in—a skinny kid in cuffs wearing a damned skateboarding helmet almost identical to the one his baby girl had used to wear in front of him—that was when Sol snapped out of it and went back to his own office.
He had work to do.
Might as well do it.
He had nothing else to live for now but the job anyway.
26
This took the cake. She…almost didn’t believe what she was seeing. But it was right in front of her. This place just got weirder and weirder every day.
Haldyn was absolutely sure of it.
This was not something Haldyn had ever imagined seeing when she’d stepped into the Major Crimes unit to drop off a report on Miguel Rodriguez’s desk. Haldyn stared at the scene in front of her and just blinked.
This? Well, no.
Definitely not something she would have ever expected.
Not that it was unusual to see a cuffed suspect in the TSP—it was rather what they did, after all. But this?
No. This wasn’t something she’d expected. At all.
A suspect in skateboarding gear was handcuffed to a chair in the middle of the TSP bullpen. A homicide detective—the head of Homicide actually—was glowering down at his catch. A long way down. Miguel was a very tall, extremely broad-shouldered, incredibly muscular man who had once been a college linebacker at Baylor University. Rumor had it he had considered going pro for a while there, until he’d been injured or something.
He was also the head of the part-time, as-needed rapid response team. He’d once worked the roughest neighborhoods in Houston. She’d heard a lot of whispered stories about him.
He was a very, very terrifying man.
Intimidating, even when he smiled.
Beautiful, but terrifying.
He definitely wasn’t smiling now.
The suspect in cuffs was wearing ragged baggy overalls, a black vintage grunge shirt, bright red sneakers, skateboarding gear—purple helmet with fluorescent green logo, elbow pads, and knee pads—and a taunting smirk. A very taunting smirk and a seriously bad attitude.
A definite challenge had been issued.
Oh boy.
This was going to be good. Real good.
Haldyn just stayed right where she was. And stared.
At her newest second-shift forensic tech.
