“Again, facts. Leave out the part that Nate was in Mexico, I’ll tell Abigail myself. He’ll get his hand slapped, but nothing more.”

Lucy was relieved. “Thank you.”

“Good work.”

It was six thirty when Lucy left headquarters. Sean already said he’d gone home to feed Bandit and let him out, but he was going out again and wouldn’t be home until late. He didn’t tell her what he was doing, and right now Lucy almost didn’t want to know, especially if it was going to tread into SAPD territory. Jesse was staying at St. Catherine’s and Lucy was tired. She could already picture herself in bed.

She was nearly home when an unfamiliar number rang her cell phone.

“Kincaid,” she answered.

“Agent Kincaid, this is Detective Jennifer Reed with SAPD.”

It’s about time, Lucy thought, but instead said, “Thank you for returning my call.”

“Three messages, I thought it might be important. You said it’s about the Victoria Mills homicide.”

“Yes. Do you have time to meet?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Unless you’re off duty and want to meet now. My treat, Duncan’s?”

Duncan’s was a blue bar near SAPD headquarters. Beer, appetizers, music on the weekends, darts, and shuffleboard. Mostly, a place for cops to hang out with other cops.

“You want to ruin my reputation, hanging out with a fed?” She laughed. “Sure, Duncan’s. Fifteen minutes.”

Lucy ended the call and got off at the next exit, then headed back downtown.

She’d been to the cop bar a few times, usually with Tia Mancini, the sex crimes detective she’d befriended when they worked a case together. SAPD and the FBI had had some ups and downs over the years, especially after the FBI exposed a corrupt cop who had been working for one of the drug cartels. Fortunately, most people in SAPD didn’t know Lucy and those who did mostly liked her.

The place was full but not overcrowded. Because it was a cop bar, there were lots of tables around the edges of the establishment and the bar was in the middle, providing good vantage points from nearly everywhere. Lucy found a table to the side. She didn’t know what Reed looked like, but it didn’t matter—Reed walked in and after saying hello to people she knew walked right over to Lucy. She was in her early forties, black, tall, and skinny, and wore her badge with confidence. By the reception from her fellow cops, she was well liked.

“You’re younger than I thought,” Reed said. “What are you drinking?”

“Wine. Red.”

Reed waved over to the bartender. “Drake, light draft and a red. On the fed here.”

“Thanks,” Lucy muttered.

“You’re clearly FBI. But the cops I asked said you’re not a dick, so that’s a plus.”

“Good to know,” she said, because what did you say to something like that?