“It’s not just us, ma’am. Young Jimmy is watching and learning.”

“Vernon would skin me alive if I called you anything other than ma’am, ma’am,” Jimmy said.

“Now you’re double-ma’aming me.”

The agents laughed.

“How was your day, ma’am?” Vernon asked, glancing at her in the mirror.

“I think we got our guy. And get this—he’s the son of a sergeant who hates my guts for reasons known only to him.”

“Wow,” Vernon said. “That’s complicated.”

“As hell, but if he raped and murdered those women, I’m going to nail him to the wall.”

“You’ve got DNA, right?”

“Yeah, but we need a sample from him that we didn’t get before he lawyered up, and it certainly won’t happen voluntarily now that the lawyer is involved.”

“What I don’t get,” Jimmy said, “is if he’s innocent, why wouldn’t he give the DNA to prove that?”

“There’s always a fear of being framed, I suppose,” Sam said, “but that’s a good question. If someone was tying me to rapes and murders I didn’t commit, I’d hand over my DNA to prove I had nothing to do with it. But people don’t trust us to always do the right thing, and with good reason, I suppose. That’s another way that the few bad apples ruin things for the rest of us.”

“Heard your friend Detective McBride is in line for a big promotion,” Vernon said, glancing at her in the mirror.

“Yeah, she is. I’m thrilled about it. She’s one of the best cops I’ve ever worked with. The department needs someone like her in a top-level role. She’ll make us all look good.”

“Did they ask you?” Jimmy asked.

“Twice, and I said ‘thanks, but no, thanks’ both times. I’d go mad in that job. My dad hated it at first. He grew into it, but the transition from street cop to desk jockey was rough for him. I’d never adjust to that.”

“I can’t see that for you,” Vernon said. “Hope that’s okay to say, ma’am.”

“It’s okay to say because it’s the truth. I’m doing the job I was born to do, and I know that sounds self-important or whatever, but it’s true.”

“We can see that, ma’am,” Vernon said. “You’re very good at it.”