A Serial Affair. Natalie Dunbar
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secretary, Ilene, was hovering near her desk.
Marina checked her watch. She was still fifteen minutes early. She slowed her stride, sparing her boss’s office a quick, surreptitious glance. The door was closed.
Marina greeted Ilene as she began to put her things in her desk.
“Keep the jacket on. Spaulding wants to see you in his office as soon as you get settled,” Ilene announced.
Marina looked up from locking her purse in the bottom drawer. “What’s going on?”
Ilene shrugged, her expression giving discreet evidence of the battle within her. She didn’t like Marina, but was still the kind of person who enjoyed knowing things others didn’t and controlling the flow of information. “I think you’re going to get a new assignment,” she admitted.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Marina prompted, slanting her a glance.
Nostrils flaring, Ilene’s gaze flicked over her. “This one is big. You’ll either fall on your face or prove you deserved that promotion.”
“I got the promotion because I’ve already more than proved myself, but I’m down for a new assignment.” Marina straightened, ready to squash any smart-assed comment Ilene might make. Still, she swallowed at the smirk on Ilene’s face.
“We’ll see.” Turning abruptly, Ilene headed back to her desk.
Marina hesitated, torn between rushing into her boss’s office to hear the news as soon as possible and enjoying the last minute of peace she was likely to get for some time. She opted for the momentary peace and headed for the coffee room with her cup. Three gulps of hot coffee later she knocked at her boss’s door.
“Santos!” Ross Spaulding called, beckoning her into the room, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Inclining her head in acknowledgment, she took a seat at his conference table. “What is it, sir?”
“We got a call from the mayor’s office this morning,” he announced. “Dansinger is asking us to work with the Chicago Police Department on a special task force.”
“And how does Chicago’s finest feel about us encroaching on their territory?” she quipped.
“Damn lucky for a change!” Spaulding grinned almost affably. “With the economy being so rough right now, crime has almost doubled in Chicago. The C.P.D. has got just about all they can handle.” The smile faded as he eyed her critically. “Been paying attention to the news lately?”
“What kind of violent crime are we talking?” she asked.
“You’re the expert. What do you think? Why do you think you’re sitting in the hot seat?” he countered.
Her eyes widened. She hadn’t wanted to draw conclusions since the request had come from the mayor’s office and she’d been assigned the case, but deep in her gut she knew. “Are we talking Elliot Washington and the other man being found dead, their bodies mutilated, within a four-or five-month period?”
“Bingo.” Spaulding weighed her with his eyes. She’d gotten points for that answer. “Washington’s death has the mayor’s family pretty upset. Jade Dansinger thought she was in love with him apparently.”
“Was there another incident, another body?” she asked.
Spaulding’s beefy fist choked the life out of an ink pen as his head inclined in answer to her question. “You’ll work with one of their homicide lieutenants and you’ll have resources available from the Chicago Police Department and the FBI. I don’t have to tell you how important this case is for us, and to you and your career?”
“No, sir. I will find the killer.” Marina spoke with cool confidence but inside she was bouncing off the walls with nervous excitement. Spaulding hadn’t promoted her to his section. She’d been promoted and dumped on him by his management. Since then, they’d both been trying to make the best of it. Her fingers tightened on the edges of the chair beneath the table.
He made a rough grinding sound in the back of his throat. “I’ve had agents waste valuable time and taxpayer dollars wrestling with the C.P.D. over jurisdictional issues and one-upmanship. Don’t even think of letting the fact that you’ll be working with the C.P.D. keep you from solving this case as soon as possible, understand?”
“Yes, sir. I can work with them,” she said quickly, hoping her new partner wouldn’t be a complete ass.
Spaulding’s piercing gaze sized her up once more. He nodded as if she’d passed some test. “You’re due at the Twenty-fourth District Town Hall Station on Halstead at ten-thirty, so get moving. Talbot wants you to check in with him before you leave.”
Marina thanked him and left the office. Outside, she let herself breathe. She could do this. She would do this. The prospect actually excited her.
At his desk in the Homicide Unit, finishing some paperwork, Lieutenant Reed Crawford’s jaw clenched, as his temper shot up like a rocket. Two desks over, Lieutenant Warwick was meeting with a community activist and a local reporter about the high-profile murder of one of the Chicago Bears’ assistant coaches. Evidently, there was going to be an article in the paper. That didn’t bother him so much. What burned Reed the most was that somehow Warwick had scooped him again by getting the assignment from Shepherd. When had that happened? Better yet, how?
If it was just about the work, he could deal with it, but he and Warwick were the top candidates for a promotion. If Reed just took it as the luck of the draw, then in a few months he’d probably be standing on the sidelines as Warwick accepted the promotion they’d both been pushing for. Reed was determined to use all his skills and abilities to serve the community and lead the department to greater glory in its war against crime.
After postponing his dreams of becoming an FBI agent to stick close to home to help care for his ailing mother, he’d discovered that he really liked police work. The competition for the promotions was so heated and contentious he’d learned to get in line early and make sure the folks in the head shed knew just who he was.
Reed stood, placing the reports he’d been finishing back into folders and pushing the folders into a neat pile. He headed for the captain’s office, more than aware that it was time to look out for his own interests. He’d made lieutenant on his own and he’d get the next promotion the same way.
Ean Shepherd was at his desk, chomping on an unlit cigar. Reed knew it was a bad sign. Shepherd had been trying to stop smoking all year. For the most part, he’d succeeded, but when stressed or under pressure Shepherd went back to chomping. The one concession was that most of the time it stayed unlit. “What do you want, Crawford?” he barked, spotting Reed in the doorway.
Having worked for Shepherd for two years, Reed immediately realized that he should have waited to approach the man. “I wanted to talk assignments, but if this is a bad time…”
“It ain’t gonna get any better,” Shepherd snapped. “From the mayor’s office to the brass, I’ve had my ass chewed so many times today it’s medium rare. You wait much longer I won’t have any ass left, so get in here.”
Stepping into the office and closing the door, Reed dropped down into the seat in front of the desk.
“So what’s got your jaw so tight?”
“Warwick’s working the Chicago Bears’ case and I’m still off in the weeds with a desk full of crap. Captain, I want that promotion. I need an assignment that will give me some of the same exposure and experience as he’s getting.”
Shepherd eyed him speculatively. Then he nodded. “Mmm-hmm.” A grin formed on both sides of the cigar in Shepherd’s mouth. “Crawford, I’ve got just the job for you.”
This was too easy. The sudden change in the captain made Reed do a double take. “Sir?”
Shepherd threw the soggy cigar into the trash can and tilted back in his chair.