“The chief of detectives wants to see you in his office posthaste. It’s important,” Fred told me. “Better move it.”

I nodded at him and tried to keep my good mood intact. “Of course it is, he’s the chief of detectives. You have any helpful hints for me, Fred? You happen to know what this is about, what I should expect?”

“It’s a big deal,” said Cook, unhelpful and happy about it. “That’s about all I can tell you, Alex.”

He walked away, leaving me hanging. I could feel bile rising in my throat. My good mood had already deserted me.

I walked down the creaking hardwood floors of the hallway to The Jefe’s office. I had no idea what to expect, but I sure wasn’t prepared for what I found.

I immediately thought about what Damon had said that morning: It’s time we had a normal life around here.

Sampson was seated inside the chief’s office. Rakeem Powell and Jerome Thurman were both in there, too.

“Come in, Dr. Cross.” Chief Pittman beckoned with an outstretched hand. “Please come in. We’ve been waiting for you to arrive.”

“What is this?” I said, pulling up a chair next to Sampson’s and whispering in his ear.

“Don’t know yet, but it’s not too good,” he said. “The Jefe hasn’t said word one to us. Looks like the canary who ate the cat, though.”

Pittman came around in front of his desk and leaned his ample buttocks back against it. He seemed particularly full of himself and bullshit this morning. His mousy gray hair was plastered back and looked like a helmet on his bullet head.

“I can tell you what you want to know, Detective Cross,” he said. “In fact, I didn’t want to tell these other detectives until you got here. As of this morning, detectives Sampson, Thurman, and Powell have been suspended from active duty. They have been working on cases outside the auspices of this department. Evidence is still being gathered about the full extent of these activities and also if any other detectives were involved.”

I started to speak up, but Sampson grabbed my arm — hard. “Be cool, Alex.”

Pittman looked at the three of them. “Detectives Sampson, Thurman, Powell, you can go. Your union representative has been informed of the situation. You have questions, or issues with my decision, inform your representative.”

Sampson’s mouth was set hard. He didn’t say a word to The Jefe, though. He got up and left the office. Thurman and Powell trailed close behind him. Neither of them spoke to Pittman, either. The three of them were hardworking, dedicated detectives, and I couldn’t stand to watch this happen.