“You should’ve taken the deputy chief’s job when you had the chance,” Gonzo said with a laugh. “Then you’d be their boss.”

“Bite your tongue. I wanted nothing to do with that, as you know.”

“Did you hurt your neck in the crash?” Gonzo asked again.

Sam pulled her hand down from her neck. “No.”

“Are you lying?”

“No.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Bite me. I’m not injured.”

“I’ll pass on the biting, but if you hurt yourself, ignoring it won’t make it go away. Exhibit A is your hip.”

Sam turned on him. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

Gonzo held up his hands, as if to fend her off. “Yours. Always yours. I don’t want to see you have permanent injury from whiplash.”

“You can’t get permanent injury from whiplash.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Vernon?” Gonzo asked with exasperation.

“Yes, you can,” Vernon said.

“Another reminder that as my agent, you’re supposed to always be on my side.”

“I am, ma’am,” he said with a grin in the mirror.

“My neck is fine, but I’ve got a pain in the ass where Cooper is concerned that I don’t need right now.”

“Just ignore him and keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Spinning my wheels?”

“Working the case. Pulling the threads. Doing what you do.”

“Still nothing from your contacts?”

“Nothing solid. I’m working every angle.”

Sam sighed. “Give me a nice shooting or knifing or strangulation over drug ODs any day.”

Gonzo sputtered with laughter. “There is so much wrong with that sentence, I don’t know where to begin.”

Vernon and Jimmy laughed.

“Well, it’s true! I feel like we’re hunting ghosts in the night or something.”

“We are.”

“I rest my frustrating case.”

The Diaz family lived in an apartment complex off C Street Northeast. As they trooped to the third floor, Sam ignored her aches and pains to stay focused on the case. With Narcotics wanting in on the investigation, she had to step up the pace to close it before they forced their way in.

She knocked on the door to apartment 3F and stepped to one side while Gonzo stood on the other. Vernon hung back as he always did, there if needed, but out of the way.

A heavyset middle-aged woman answered the door, her mouth falling open when she realized who was there.

Sam held up her badge while Gonzo did the same. “Lieutenant Holland, Sergeant Gonzales, Metro PD. Could we have a moment of your time, please?”

“Is this about my Angelo?” she asked tearfully.

“It is.”

“Come in.” She led them to a living room full of religious items. Mass was playing on the TV, and rosary beads sat on an easy chair. She picked up the beads and muted the TV. “What’s happened?”

“Before we get to that, could we have your name?”

“Evelyn Diaz.”

“Can you tell us what happened to Angelo?”

Her eyes immediately filled with tears. “He went to bed one night after work and didn’t wake up the next morning.” Her chin quivered as she relived the horror. “The doctor said he probably had an undiagnosed heart condition.”