“I wish I knew. He hates my guts and always has. It didn’t help when I was promoted to lieutenant and they gave me his command. He got sent to the rat squad,” she said, referring to the Internal Affairs division, “and he’s been a pain in my ass ever since.”

“So you used to be under his command?”

“Yeah, and those were good times, let me tell ya. It’s safe to say he was a pain in my ass then too.”

Hill laughed. “I bet you were a pain in his as well.”

“Me? A pain in the ass? I’m hurt.”

“Sure you are,” he said.

“He’s a total boob. Couldn’t find his own ass in a barrel of monkeys and had no business running a detective squad.”

Laughing again, Hill said, “Where the hell did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“The thing about the barrel of monkeys.”

“I made it up. You got the point, right?”

“You’re a character, Holland. Truly.”

“I hear that once in a while.” Sam ventured a wary glance at him and found him watching where he was going. Perhaps it was possible, after all, for them to find their way to a collegial relationship that had no hint of romantic interest attached to it. She sure hoped so because if he was sticking around, she didn’t need the headaches associated with that kind of drama.

“So what did you do to stir the ire of Lieutenant Stahl?”

“Well, first I was born to Skip Holland. They started out together, and my dad made it to deputy chief while Stahl never got past lieutenant. He always resented my dad for that. So when I came along and rose through the ranks pretty quickly, he was all set to hate me just because my last name was Holland. It didn’t help, I suppose, that I was, you know, somewhat insubordinate while under his command.”

“You? Somewhat insubordinate? I can’t picture that either.”

“Shut up. Yes, you can.”

When they arrived in the Adams Morgan neighborhood, Sam directed him to Jamie’s apartment building off Columbia Road. They parked and walked up three flights of stairs.

“I pictured something fancier for the head trainer of a Major League Baseball team,” Hill said when they reached the third-floor landing.

“I know. This is nice but average at best.”

“Right. And everything in her financials checked out?”

“I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.”

Sam knocked on the door and pressed her ear against it, but didn’t hear any movement inside. She knocked again, this time using a closed fist for greater impact, and heard the shuffle of feet on the floor.

“Who is it?”

“Lieutenant Holland,” Sam said, holding up her badge to the peep hole, “and Agent Hill.”