Fortunately, she'd been told repeatedly that she had a good one.
And being in the conference room allowed her to hide.
She wasn't exactly a coward. But word had gotten around. Bryant Naylor had a lot of friends in the detective division, including Major Crimes. Somehow it had gotten out that she suspected him of being as dirty as the bottoms of her boots.
Well, he was just going to have to deal with that. And so were they.
She knew what it was like. Sometimes women in law enforcement, well, sometimes.... No matter how much street cred she had built over the years, when it came down to it,menaround this place would have Bryant Naylor’s back more than they would hers.
There was already somehostilitytoward her for what had happened between her and Bryant. People were gossiping and saying things about her behind her back. Now that she was a big, bad detective with Major Crimes. Petty, jealous assholes.
She had the wrong equipment for some around this place. That was a reality she’d faced in law enforcement before. Well, screw Naylor, and any of his friends, too. If he was dirty, if he was responsible for what had happened to his own brother—well, K.J. was going to prove it.
She had been working in the conference room for several hours when the sound of footsteps had her looking up. Someone made a big production of knocking on the doorframe and asking permission to enter.
Of course. Trace stood there.
He wasalmostthe most obnoxious man on the planet. He had Brett beat by a mile. But a part of her thought he reminded her of her brother. She was getting used to him. He was…tolerable, at times. And not afraid to do the work, either. He was okay for now. She was going to be continuing to work with himhalf the time, while transitioning into Major Crimes. Not ideal, but Marshall was trying to fill holes everywhere.
But she was ready for Brett to come back. They’d gotten good news recently, too.
Brett had been moved up in prognosis, at least. He was starting to be awake more often, too. They had come so close to losing him. He would make a full recovery—eventually. No one knew when that eventuality would happen, though. It just would. And that was what mattered.
Dom Acardi had been able to fully interview Brett earlier that morning. They knew what he had found now. He’d been following a money trail on a defense attorney who had been killed six years ago. And the names had led right back to Hughes Heights. He’d had four names, but hadn’t been ready to say anything. Because one of those names was Daniel McKellen, Senior.
Brett hadn’t been ready to open that can of worms yet. She understood why, considering.
She was going to see if there was any overlap with what she had now. And go from there.
"Hey, boss," Trey said. "Remember that kid we saw walking around Hughes Heights? Teenage girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. School uniform?"
K.J. nodded. She’d almost forgotten, but she did remember. They’d seen the girl walking around in Hughes Heights a few other times, too. Always alone. "Why?"
"She's in the bullpen right now. Says she needs to talk to you. She'll only speak with you, and she’s pretty emphatic about that. Recognized me, but wouldn’t even give me the time of day—no matter how adorable I am. I think you’ve made a new friend."
K.J. could give her a few minutes—maybe fifteen—then grab some lunch. She was starving. It was the Hughes Heights connection. She’d learned years ago that sometimes the smallestthing could turn a case on its head. Someone wanted to talk, even a teenager, she would listen. "I've got a few minutes. I'll talk to her."
"You want me to go in with you? Teach you the techniques of interrogation, since I have had my shield for such a long time now?"
"This isn't an interrogation. This is a kid. I think I can handle myself just fine."
"Whatever. You know you miss me when we're not together. We're fated to fall madly in love and live happily ever after. Six kids and all. What about it? You ready to pop the question? I’m getting impatient."
Someone snorted behind him. “Hear you’ll have to get in line with this one, Trace. She was off on adatewhen her last partner was shot. Something to keep in mind.”
She turned. It was Bryant. Of course she hadn't seen him come in. K.J. automatically tensed, and the hair rose on her arms and everything.
“Chill, man. Not cool.” All teasing was out of Trace’s tone now.
"Oh, looks like you have a bit of scum that followed you right on in, Trace. Like dog poop on your shoe. Maybe you should just keep stepping on it until it wears off." She knew Bryant was saying things about her—his littlefriendsin the road patrol units were making that very, very known.
"Wow. Talk about some tension here. Maybe you two should just get married and get it over with?" Trace said, crossing his arms over his massive chest and just looking at them both. “Enemies-to-lovers, maybe?"
But he had shifted in front of her a little. She did appreciate that. “I’d rather die first.”
Bryant just smirked at her, looking like his brother in so many ways. “I have somewhere else to be, I’m afraid. We’ll have to do this later. I’ll make sure of it.”
She knew what it was—it was a threat.
