“Hey, babe, it’s me. Listen, I was thinking you ought to check out an editorial that ran in the Post a week or so ago. Tony Sanducci went off about Julian. Might be a good lead. I’ll send a link to your e-mail. I’ll be home in an hour or so. Maybe we can take another shower or something.” The memory of their earlier shower made him smile. “Love you.”

Sam emerged from the hearing and went straight to the restroom. The pain in her stomach bent her in half. In a cold sweat, she closed the stall door and rested against it, fighting for every breath.

She’d meant it when she told the board she wouldn’t change a thing about the O’Connor investigation. Nick was, without a doubt, the best thing to ever happen to her. How could she regret falling in love with him? How could she regret the magic his love had brought to her life? But to be busted down to detective, just as she achieved her longtime goal of making lieutenant…

“God,” she whispered, the enormity of it almost too much to bear.

She took another ten minutes to pull herself together. Determined to get out of there on time for once, she returned to the detectives’ pit where a crowd waited for her.

Gonzo pounced first. “Lieutenant, how did it go?”

“Are you all right?” Jeannie asked.

“Stahl’s an asshole,” Arnold chimed in. “This is all about you getting his command.”

Sam held up her hand to stop them. “I appreciate the support, Arnold, but this is about me hooking up with a witness during a homicide investigation. While Lieutenant Stahl may have ulterior motives, he’s entirely within his rights to call for an IAB inquiry.”

“It’s so fucked up,” Gonzo said, his face tight with dismay. “The senator was instrumental in you closing O’Connor as fast as you did. That should count for something.”

“We’ll see if it does,” Sam said, resigned now to whatever fate awaited her. “In the meantime, where are we with Sinclair?”

“I’m digging around in Diandra’s background like we discussed,” Jeannie said. “I should have a report for you in a couple of hours.”

“We aren’t authorized any O.T. on this one,” Sam reminded her.

“I’ll do it on my own time,” Jeannie said.

Sam sent her a grateful smile, knowing Jeannie had been moved by Nick’s devastation after hearing about Sinclair. The brotherhood—or in this case sisterhood—among her fellow officers had always been Sam’s favorite part of the job. Luckily, there were a lot more like Jeannie and Gonzo and Cruz than there were like Stahl.

“I’m going to head home,” Sam said. “Shoot your report to my email. I’ll be working later.”