Over eggs and toast, she and Freddie hashed out the case with Skip while Celia helped him with a cup of coffee.

“I agree with you about the female angle, the act of passion,” Skip said.

“We haven’t encountered a woman yet with the emotional baggage toward O’Connor that this would’ve required,” Freddie said.

“We’re talking to some ex-girlfriends when we leave here, so we’re hoping to get lucky,” Sam said.

“You’re looking for a cool customer,” Skip said, slipping into the zone. “Someone who keeps tremendous anger bottled up under a refined exterior. You’ll find she’s been abused or had complicated relationships with the significant men in her life—father, ex-husband, ex-lover. Men have disappointed her in some way and whatever the senator did was the final straw. The breaking point.”

“Damn,” Freddie said reverently. “You two are something else. She sees these things as clearly as you do.”

Celia smiled at him. “It’s in their genes. I wonder sometimes if I should be afraid, spending as much time as I do with people who can slide inside a criminal’s mind as easily as these two can.”

“Enough about our genes.” Sam stood as she downed a last swallow of soda. “Thanks, Celia, for the chow, and you for the consult.” She kissed her father’s cheek. “See you tonight.”

“I won’t hold my breath,” he said with a dry chuckle. To Freddie he added, “She uses me for a place to keep her considerable wardrobe.”

“Seems to me she uses you for a lot more than that. Always a pleasure, Chief.”

“All mine, Detective. The Skins are playing at home Sunday night if you want to stop by to watch the game. Celia tells me there’ll be snacks. Maybe even a beer or two if I’m good.”

“Snacks, beer and football?” Freddie reached out to squeeze Skip’s hand. “Hard to resist an offer like that. I’ll do my best to come by. Thanks for breakfast, Celia. It was fabulous as usual.”

“Anytime, Detective,” Celia said, blushing a little as even the strongest of women tended to do when on the receiving end of Freddie’s formidable charm.

Outside, Sam paused before she got into the car. “I, ah, I just wanted to say thanks for that in there.”

Freddie’s eyebrows knitted with confusion as he studied her over the top of the car. “For what? Eating your food like I just got rescued from a deserted island?”

“No.” She struggled to find the words. “For treating him like he’s still a normal guy, a normal person.”

“He is.” Freddie maintained the puzzled air of innocent befuddlement. “Why would I treat him any other way?”