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In all my years on the force, I’d never been applauded by my precinct for solving a case. But I knew it wasn’t just about me. The love of my life was standing by my side. He had not only helped uncover key evidence but had also been subjected to a plot that might have killed him.

Craig and I glanced at each other, and I gestured for them to stop clapping. Once the commotion had died down and the room settled back into its normal din and routine, a familiar face walked toward us. I hadn’t seen him in over a week, and by the look of his faded black eyes and bandaged nose, it was the officer I’d punched at the bar—Kevin Flanigan. I winced slightly, knowing I’d done that out of frustration.

Flanigan lowered his gaze before speaking, as if he were embarrassed. “Uh, Detective? I…uh, wanted to officially apologize for what I said to you at the bar that night. I was upset about not getting a promotion, and I had way too much to drink. I would never, in my right mind, say anything as derogatory or homophobic as I was about to before you⁠—”

I raised my hand to silence him. “We both did something out of character. I’m sorry for that,” I said, waving a lazy finger at his nose. “It shouldn’t have happened.” We were both at fault.

“My buddy, Keith…uh, Officer Wilson, told me what happened once I’d sobered up. He said you and he had a chat about that night.”

“Yup. Down in the gym, of all places. You’re fortunate to have a good friend like him.”

He gave me a tight smile. “I tend to be impatient. He keeps me in line,” he replied with a chuckle.

Absentmindedly, I wrapped an arm around Craig’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “Yeah, we’re lucky to have people in our lives who can do that,” I said, glancing at Craig.

Flanigan looked between Craig and me, then stuck his hand out to meet my boyfriend. “Hi, um, I’m Kevin.”

Craig extended his hand and said, “Craig Bannon. It’s a pleasure.”

I sensed Flanigan felt awkward. “Well, I’ll let you guys get back to whatever you were doing. It was nice meeting you,” he said to Craig before walking past us and heading out of the squad room.

After he was gone, Craig looked at me. “You did that to him?”

“Yeah, unfortunately,” I replied, not wanting to explain. I was saved when Sean came in with a suit-clad gentleman. Craig watched as they walked toward us.

“Hmm, this should be interesting,” Craig snickered under his breath.

The man was good-looking, probably mid-thirties, and carried himself with a look of cockiness, yet as his eyes wandered around the squad room, I was sure he was anxious about why he’d been brought there. He was chewing gum, and not subtly. Sean gave me a smile and introduced the man as Dashell Matthews.

I shook his hand and said, “Thank you for coming in, Mr. Matthews. We have a few questions about the unfortunate accident that killed Raymond Chandler. We’re investigating his accident as a homicide. As his friend and co-worker, you might be able to give us some insight into his behavior before the accident.”

He glanced between Sean and me, ignoring Craig altogether. He relaxed a little after I told him why he was there. “Um, yeah. You can call me Dash, by the way. I’m not sure I’ll be able to give you much information about Raymond, though.”

“Anything you can tell us might help. Detective Lopez will escort you to a room where we can talk,” I replied with a smile.

“Come with me,” Sean said to him, heading back toward the interrogation rooms. Once they’d walked away, Craig said, “This should be good theater. And hopefully, it will get Brooke out of the line of fire.”

“You can watch from the other room as you did earlier,” I said with a wink.

Sean and I had worked out how the questioning would go beforehand. It felt fortuitous that Dash Matthews was chewing gum. It would set up our plan perfectly. Sean had left Dash alone in the interrogation room and stepped into the observation room with the one-way glass to wait for us. I brought Craig in, then Sean and I went into the interrogation room together. Dash sat facing the one-way glass while Sean stood in the corner, hands in his pockets, letting me face the man head-on. I set a folder on the table containing photos of the forensic evidence and advised him of his Miranda rights before we started.

He gave me a dismissive wave and said he understood. “I’m here at your request to clear anything up about Raymond. I don’t think I’ll need a lawyer,” he replied.

Dash looked at the closed folder and threw me a questioning look, chewing his gum with more force than necessary.

“Alright then. It’s our understanding that you and Raymond were friends and worked together at the same firm, correct?”

“That’s right,” he replied with a slight frown.

“How long did you work together?”

“Almost two years.”

“And… how well did you know him?”

“Uh… not that well. I mean, I only knew him from work. We didn’t socialize.” He popped his gum a couple of times.

“Can I ask you a favor and get rid of the gum for me? I’m having a difficult time hearing your answers clearly.”