Eve tore open the wrapper on a granola bar and started eating. “When did we become a task force? And when did it become mine?”

“After Sheriff Lansing saw you on the news last night,” Duncan said.

“Translation,” Biddle said. “You get to run the task force because you’re young, you have nice tits, and were in a viral video that got great PR for the department in the middle of the county jail shitstorm.”

Garvey added, “As opposed to one of the detectives who’ve actually spent years grinding away and solving homicides and know what the fuck they’re doing.”

“Stop whining. This isn’t new,” she said, getting in his face. “That’s the way you’ve felt since I walked in the door three months ago.”

Garvey wasn’t intimidated. “What did you expect? A standing ovation from the guys who actually earned their promotions?”

“No, Tubbs, this is exactly what I expected.” Eve stepped away from him and shifted her gaze between the three men. “Because it’s the same sexist attitude that would have shut me out of Robbery-Homicide for another ten years . . . and that I still would have faced if I ever got in. So I used the leverage that video gave me to get myself here overnight. Did I leapfrog over people who’ve been struggling to get into Robbery-Homicide for years and haven’t made it? Yes, I did. Do I care? Nope. Do I deserve to be here? It doesn’t matter because here I am, boys. You don’t like it? Too bad. Suck it up or get out. I’m sure the sheriff will give me two other detectives to replace you. They might even stay.”

Biddle and Garvey glowered but didn’t move. The tension was so thick that it was as palpable as humidity. But it felt great to Eve to finally say what she’d been feeling. She wasn’t going to apologize for being ambitious or using the opportunities that came her way to get what she wanted.

She turned her attention back to the crime scene photos and took a bite of her granola bar. Fuck them. She had three murders to solve, four if she counted the dog . . . and she did.

Duncan cleared his throat. “Well, now that we’ve got the housekeeping preliminaries out of the way, let’s get to work. You two go talk to Tanya’s Pilates instructor and the other women in the class. They were probably the last ones to see her alive and might be able to point us to her Realtor.”

Biddle and Garvey headed for the door.

“Wait, before you go,” Eve said, her back to them, her eyes still on the board, “there’s more you need to know. Tanya’s ex-husband, Cleve Kenworth, claims that her boyfriend, Jared Rawlins, was beating the kids, maybe her, too. So we should probably talk to the teachers at the kids’ school, see if they saw any signs of abuse.”

Duncan looked at her. “When did you talk to Kenworth?”