The chief was suddenly depressed. She felt as if she might be coming down with something. She buzzed Captain Horgess. “What do I have scheduled for lunch?” she asked.

“Councilman Snider,” came the reply.

“Cancel him and get West on the phone,” she said. “Tell her to meet me in my office at noon.”

ELEVEN

The Presto Grill was an acronym for Peppy Rapid Efficient Service Tops Overall and was not in a good part of town. Every cop in the greater Charlotte-Mecklenburg area knew that Hammer and West ate breakfast at the Presto every Friday morning. This was monitored far more closely than the cops supposed either woman knew, for there wasn’t an officer interested in survival who would take even the slimmest chance that something bad might happen to the chief or deputy chief on his beat.

The small grill looked as it had in the forties, when it was built. It was on West Trade Street and surrounded by eroded parking lots, just down from the Mount Moriah Primitive Baptist Church. Hammer preferred walking from headquarters when the weather was nice, as it was this day. West never walked when she could ride, but it was not her call.

“Nice suit,” Hammer said to West, who had opted to give her uniform a day off and was dressed in a red blouse and a bright blue pants suit. “Why do you never wear skirts?” Hammer asked her.

It was not a criticism, just curiosity. West had a very nice figure and slender legs.

“I hate skirts,” West said, breathing hard, for Hammer did not walk at a normal pace. “I think hose and high heels are a male conspiracy. Like binding feet. To cripple us. Slow us down.” She breathed.

“Interesting,” Hammer considered.

David One Officer Troy Saunders spotted them first and was instantly palsied by indecision as he quickly turned off on Cedar Street, out of sight. Did he alert his buddies out here? He was reliving the nightmare of Hammer’s surprise appearance at roll call, and her severe warning about cops following people and harassing, spying, tailing no matter the motive. Wouldn’t it be harassment in the chief’s eyes if he, Saunders, instigated her and West being spied upon, or tailed, during lunch? Christ. Saunders came to a dead halt in an All Right parking lot, his heart out of control.

He checked his mirrors and scanned parked cars, deliberating. It wasn’t worth the risk, he decided. Especially since he had been right there and had heard every word Hammer had said to Goode. The chief sure as hell could check roll call and know for a fact that Saunders had been sitting three chairs away from her. She’d be all over his ass for insubordination, for disobeying a direct order. He was certain that her eyes had burned through him when she’d said, Next time, it will cost you. Saunders raised no one on his radio. He parked in the farthest corner of the pay lot and smoked.