Archie’s phone rang. He let it ring a few times before he checked the caller ID, but he snapped it to his cheek the second he saw who it was.

“It’s me,” Claire said. “You need to get to the hospital.”

Chapter 43

CHAPTER

43

Susan stared at her laptop screen. Now that she had her laptop, she didn’t need Archie’s computer, so she’d decided to work in the conference room. She could spread out in there, and the chairs were more comfortable. Also, she’d managed to find a leftover burrito in the fridge, which didn’t seem to be working anyway.

She’d updated the editor at the Times about Carter. They were sending the paper’s Northwest Bureau chief down from Seattle. The story was now too big for a stringer, he said.

The cursor in front of her blinked. Crap. She couldn’t even figure out how to finish the story she’d pitched. She’d never sweated over thirty column inches so hard in her life.

Heil came in, saw Susan, and stopped.

“You’re still here?” he asked.

“You’re still here, too,” she pointed out.

His forehead creased. “I work here,” he said.

Good point. “I’m almost done,” she said. He was wearing a jacket. Not the police windbreaker this time—a black jacket that zipped up the front. “Are you going home?” she asked.

“I finally got in touch with some local aquarium supply shop employees.” He held up a list. “Aquarium nerds. I’ve got interviews with five of them.”

She saw the bottom address. Division and Twentieth. “That’s on my way home,” she said. “Want me to do it?”

Heil glanced at the list in his hand. “You can read that from there?”

“You write big, like a girl.”

He smirked and pocketed the list. “Go to the Academy,” he said. “Work patrol. Make detective. And then call me.” He walked to the fridge and opened it. After a few seconds he said, “Did you eat my burrito?”

Susan cringed. The foil was still in front of her. “I didn’t know that belonged to anyone,” she said.

“It was in a bag with my name on it,” Heil said. “Written big. Like a girl.”

“Sorry,” she said.

“I’ll get something while I’m out,” Heil said with a sigh. “Something’s got to be open.” He turned and walked to the door, and then turned back.

“You okay?” he said. “About Carter?”

“Sure,” Susan said, turning away so he couldn’t see her face. “It’s not like I knew him.”

Heil left, and she tried to get back to her story, but her mind kept returning to Carter. The Times wanted news. A National Guard soldier murdered. But it didn’t do him justice.