“Sure,” I said. But all I was thinking was that if Hartley was a member of the board, he’d have unlimited access to any case in the department, including anything that Remy and I would find looking into his own movements.

Which might be his purpose here at the hall of justice in the first place.

“I know you’re still raw about that settlement against the department,” the chief said. “And I am too. But I’ll tell you what. Go down there now. Introduce yourself to Hartley. Be the better person. Tell him, ‘No harm. No foul. Welcome to the team.’”

“It’s okay.” I put my palms out. “We don’t know each other—”

“Even more reason,” Senza said.

I hesitated, looking to the boss’s closed door.

Did I want to get into this with Senza?

“That’s an order, Detective,” he said. “Go on now. Take the high road.”

I nodded and left. Headed to the stairwell. As I came down the steps, I found the office where Hartley had put down his briefcase.

I knocked on the open door, and he raised his head.

The attorney had the body of a wrestler. Not as tall as me, but a compact figure and thick, wiry arms. He wore a black suit, cut tight against his strong frame.

“Paul. Thomas. Marsh,” Hartley said.

I closed the door behind me.

Hartley stared at me then, saying nothing more. And I said nothing back. A long moment passed. What Remy and I called “S.T.F.U. time.” And generally when we shut the fuck up, the other guy talks first.

“I guess you’re wondering what I’m doing here,” he asked.

His hair was bushy along his temples, and I studied his face. His eyebrows were like unkempt wires in an abandoned house. The color of old copper turned brown. Same as the hair that covered his head.

“You like to work pro bono?” I asked.

Hartley grinned like a cat. “Nope. The truth is, I prefer a paying case. I like money.”

He laughed then. A deep and confident laugh. One you’d want to join in on, if you were in on the joke.

“But,” Hartley continued, “I figured the department could use the help, so I was asked to join the board. And here I am.”

I felt air settle against the dry area at the back of my mouth.

“I hope there’s no hard feelings,” he said. “From last year and all.”

Be cool, Purvis said.

“’Course not,” I answered.

“’Cause there’s lawyer stuff you gotta do when you’re a lawyer, Detective,” he said. “Antagonism is part of the game.”

Inside, a storm was taking shape. An updraft of energy feeding something unknown. Then a pull-down revealing a front of gray. I knew this guy was dirty.

“That’s why I came by,” I said. “Clear the decks. Let you know that we’re good.”

Done, my bulldog said. Now walk away.

The area between Hartley’s eyebrows came together. Folded to form a crease. His smile curved upward. He didn’t buy a thing I was selling.