“You got it.” He winked at her and continued up the stairs when she opened the fourth-floor fire door and headed to HR to complete the paperwork required when officers were in a relationship. Of course, the office rumor mill would spin out of control for a day or so until the next bit of gossip flitted through the offices. You’d think with as much crime as they were working, cops would have more to do than gossip like a yard full of old clucking chickens, but… no. Brock left the stairway at the sixth floor and headed straight for the break room. He waited in line and watched as the last cup was poured and the next pot was made. He nabbed his tankard, his spare for Kallie, and doctored his java while he waited for the brew to finish. Finally, he emptied half the pot into his cup and half into Kallie’s and prepped a new pot before he capped them and headed to his desk.
He’d just accessed the police department’s intranet to check on the forensic trace report as Kallie worked her way across the bull pen, and he didn’t hide the way he watched her. There was a bit of territorial claim staking on his part, although no one knew… yet.
“Done?” He slid her tankard toward her.
“Yep. Clara says, ‘hi’.” She arched her eyebrow at him and took a sip of her coffee.
“One date. Nothing happened,” he whispered, so only she could hear.
“But she wanted it to, didn’t she?” her words were just as low as his.
“No clue. But there was no chemistry on my side.” Would he have fucked her if the opportunity arose? Yeah, but he didn’t invest time in people who were fake, and that woman was as fake as a three-dollar bill.
She smiled behind her thermal mug. “Good. Is our trace report in the system?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. Print it out, and we’ll go over it at Casey’s. I could eat a horse, I’m so hungry.” He watched as she pulled out her cell and scanned the face of the device. She pocketed it again.
"The ex?"
She grunted an acknowledgment. "Going to do something about that?"
"Doing what I can."
He clicked his mouse several times, sending the report to the printer. “Do they do that a lot in Houston?”
Her head popped up and she frowned. “Do what?”
“Eat horses? Here in Hope City, we prefer other sources of protein.” He dodged a playful slug launched in his direction.
“Don’t be a dick.” She grabbed her coffee cup and stood waiting for him.
He leaned over pretending to pick up a pen, whispering, “I thought you liked my dick.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Boundaries, Detective King. Not. At. Work.”
He crossed his arms and stared at her before retorting, “Okay, Clara.”
She cocked her head and then sighed. “Point taken. We’ll both need to get better at that.”
“Indeed.”
They swung by the communal printer and made sure they took only their report before they made the quick trip to the diner, which was packed. He scanned the tables and stopped when Lieutenant Davidson waved them over to the booth he occupied. He nodded to the paperwork in Kallie’s hands. “Trace?”
“Yep. We brought it with us.”
A waiter flew by and Brock ordered for both of them as Kallie started to read the report. “God, you’d think all the mumbo jumbo could be simplified,” she muttered before she took a drink of her coffee.
“That would make too much sense,” Davidson said between bites of his breakfast omelet.
“Huh.” Kallie’s forehead scrunched. “Looks like Dr. Carpenter is on to something. There were trace amounts of dirt and cement along the front of Samuel’s slacks. Slight wear at the knees, consistent with the minor abrasions to one of his knees. Small scratches to the top of his shoes in the toe area.”
“She thinks he could have been put to his knees before he died? Execution style? Fuck.”
“One possibility. He could have gone to his knees when he was killed, too. If the murderer didn’t hold him up, or couldn't because of his size and weight, he’d pitch forward. Then the guy moves away and Samuel falls back to the wall. That scenario would fit, too,” Brock said as he thought.
“Okay. What else does it say?” Two breakfast specials dropped in front of them with the hallmark efficiency of the diner, and Brock started to eat while Kallie continued to read.
She turned the page. “That stuff on his face? The stuff the doc said mimicked the look