"I'm on eight-to-fours. I go past four, I put in the OT." But he swaggered over, took a seat. Lifted his jaw at the recorder on her desk. "What's this?"

"This conversation is being recorded for your protection, and mine."

"Maybe I need my delegate."

"If you want your delegate present, you're free to call him." Deliberately, she nudged the phone across the desk toward him. "Be my guest."

Arnie shrugged. "You got five minutes before I start clocking OT."

"At oh-nine-eleven this morning you responded to reports of gunfire at the offices of Jasper C. Hughes, Attorney at Law. Is that correct?"

"That's right."

"You responded to this location, running hot, approached the building in question. At that time, an individual inside the premises informed you he was armed, with two hostages. Is this correct?"

"If you're going to go through the whole report, we're wasting time."

"Did you call for backup or for a negotiation team at that time?"

"No. I had it handled. Until you got there."

"You identified yourself as a police officer, via bullhorn."

"I took cover, as procedure, and ID'd myself, sure. I told the guy to put down the gun, to come out. He refused."

Phoebe sat back. "You're right. We're wasting time. The reports are here, including witness statements, statements from both hostages, statements from the officers who arrived on scene subsequently. Which include the fact that you did not follow procedure, did not call for a negotiation team, did not follow any of the guidelines in hostage negotiation and instead threatened and berated the hostage-taker into an agitated state."

"Guy shoots up an office, he's already in an agitated state."

"And there, you're correct. You never tried to talk him down." Though her eyes flashed fury, her voice stayed flat, cold, utterly calm. "You told him you didn't care, you told him he was going to jail."

He sent her that tight, smirking smile. "Not supposed to lie in negotiations." "You're going to want to wipe that smirk off your face, Officer. You pushed and you pushed." She snatched up a page from a report. "'Officer Meeks then engaged the subject via telephone and advised the subject he'd be better offjust putting the gun to his head and pulling the trigger.'"

"Reverse psychology. It was under control until you got on the line. Hostages made it out, didn't they? No loss of life."

"There were three people in that office. Only two walked out."

"Only two mattered."

"In your opinion, yes, which I assume is why you felt entitled to call the hostage-taker a worthless fuck. Although I see nothing in the report that indicates the hostages mattered to you. You never asked for or ascertained their condition, and took actions that endangered their wellbeing including telling the armed hostage-taker he didn't have the balls to shoot the hostages."

"You want to blame somebody for your screwup, ma'am-"

"My actions will hold up, Officer, I promise you. Yours, on the other hand, don't. You're suspended for thirty days."

He came up out of the chair. "Bullshit."

"The incident will be investigated, as will your actions during it. Meanwhile, you are ordered to report to the departmental psychiatrist for an evaluation within the next seventy-two hours."

The ugly red spread over his face, as it had in the lecture room. "You're not running over me this way."

"You're free to protest the suspension, but I can tell you you'll find Captain McVee, who has copies of all statements, in agreement with my decision."

"He'd agree to flap his wings like a chicken seeing as you're blowing him."

She got slowly to her feet. "What did you say to me?"

"You think it's some secret you're sitting here because you let McVee bang you? We'll see who's fucking suspended when I'm done with you. Bitch."

"You're suspended, thirty days, and the tag for insubordination is going in your jacket. You're going to want to get out of here, Officer, before you make it worse."

He stepped to her desk, planted his hands on it, leaned forward. "It's going to get worse, for you. That's a promise."

She felt the clutch in her throat. "You're dismissed. Badge and weapon, Officer."

His hand moved to his sidearm, his fingers danced over it, and Phoebe saw something in his eyes that told her he was more than just an arrogant son of a bitch.

The quick rap on the door had her fighting not to jolt. Sykes poked his head in. "Sorry to interrupt. I need a minute, Lieutenant, when you've got one."

"I've got one. Officer Meeks? I gave you an order."

He undipped his weapon, tossed it and his badge onto her desk.

When he turned and stalked out, Phoebe allowed herself one shuddering breath.

"You okay, LT?"

"Yes. Yes. What do you need?"

"Nothing. Things looked a little heated in here, that's all."

"Okay. Yeah. Thanks." She wanted to sink down in her chair, made herself stand. "Detective? You've been around here a long time."

"Twelve years."

"Hear a lot of the gossip, the buzz?"

"Sure."

"Detective, is it common belief that Captain McVee and I have a sexual relationship?"

He looked so stunned that her stomach instantly smoothed. "Jesus, Lieutenant, no." Sykes closed the door behind him. "Did that asshole say that?"

"Yeah. Let's leave it inside here, please. Let's leave the whole thing inside this office."

"If that's what you want." Sykes nodded down at Arnie's badge and gun. "I'll say one more thing I'd like to stay in this office. It doesn't break my heart to see that. You interested in my opinion, between you and me?"

"I am. Yeah, I'm interested."

"He'd never have had those in the first place without family connections. Guy's a loose cannon, boss. You watch your back."

"I'll be doing just that. Thank you. Thanks, Bull."

Sykes twinkled a little at her use of his nickname. He started for the door, stopped with his hand on the knob. "I guess some of us think of you as the captain's favorite niece. There were grumbles when you came in from the feds and took over here. Some of them were mine. Grumbling stopped pretty quick, from most. You're a good boss, Lieutenant.

That's what counts around here."

"Thanks."

When he went out, she let herself sit. Let herself shake.

Chapter 5

What didn't suck, Phoebe decided, was to come home after a viciously bad day and find two dozen stargazer lilies waiting for her. Essie had arranged them into quite a show in Cousin Bess's big Waterford vase, culling out a trio from the field for Phoebe's bedroom.

"You can have the whole lot up in your room, of course, but I thought-"

"No, this is fine. This is lovely." Phoebe leaned over for a sniff of them where they stood elegant and splashy on the piecrust table in the family parlor. "We can all enjoy them here."

"I didn't read the note." Essie handed it over. "And I have to admit, it was a bitter war of conscience and curiosity. Even though I know who sent them."

"I suppose he did. Well." Phoebe tapped the little envelope on her palm.

"Oh, for God's sake, Phoebe, read it!" Ava stood behind Carly, rubbing the girl's shoulders. "We're dying here. I considered wrestling your mama to the ground for that note."

Phoebe supposed when a man sent flowers to a house with four females, he sent them to all. She opened the envelope, and read.

"'See you Saturday. Duncan.'"

"That's it?" Disappointment dragged through Ava's voice. "Not much of a poet, is he?"

"I'd say he's letting the flowers speak for themselves," Essie corrected. "That's poetical enough."

"Mama, is he your boyfriend?"

"He's just someone I'm going to have dinner with tomorrow," Phoebe told Carly.

"'Cause Sherrilynn's big sister has a boyfriend, and he makes her cry all the time. She lays across the bed in her room and cries all the time, Sherrilynn says."