Sam cleared her throat. “Technically, yes. I met him once, six years ago. I hadn’t seen him since until yesterday. He’s been a tremendous asset to the investigation.”

“That was quite a show of support from someone you hardly know.”

She shrugged. “It seemed to be what the senator needed to hear.”

“Indeed.” The chief’s shrewd eyes narrowed as he studied her. “Is there anything else you want to tell me, Sergeant?”

He was handing her the opportunity to come clean. But if she told him she’d slept with Nick, had feelings for him—then and now—she’d be off the case and maybe off the force. It was too much to risk. “No, sir,” she said without blinking an eye.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“We’re waiting on a warrant to search Billings’s car and apartment. If you could exert some muscle to speed that up, we’d appreciate it.”

“Consider it done.” He started to leave, but turned back. “Get me an arrest, Sergeant. Soon.”

“I’m doing my best, sir.”

Chapter 12

Sam spent two hours with Freddie and the other detectives assigned to the case going over everything they had so far. While she was with the O’Connors, the lab came back with the report from John’s apartment—nothing was found in the sheets, the drain, or elsewhere in the apartment that didn’t belong to the victim.

Beginning to feel frustrated, Sam doled out assignments, told Freddie to meet her at Senator Stenhouse’s office at nine the next morning, and sent him home. Fifteen hours after she’d started her day, she returned to her office to find Nick in her chair with his feet on the desk.

“Comfortable?” she asked, leaning against the doorframe.

He dropped his BlackBerry into his suit coat pocket. “You were my ride.”

“Oh shit. Sorry. You waited all this time? You could’ve grabbed a cab.”

“I was hoping to talk you into dinner.”

“I can’t. I’ve still got a million things I need to do.” She paused, looked closer. “Did you clean my desk?”

“I just straightened it up a bit. How can you work in such a messy space?”

“I have a system. Now I won’t be able to find anything!”

“You need to eat, and you need to sleep. What good will you be to anyone if you make yourself sick?”

“So in addition to bringing your anal retentiveness to my workplace, you’ve put yourself in charge of making sure I eat and sleep?”

His face lifted into a cocky, sexy grin. “Happy to oblige on both fronts.”

“Food, yes. Sleep? No way in hell.”

He shrugged, apparently pleased with the half victory. “Who’s this?” he asked, picking up a photo from her desk.