“Yes, ma’am.”
In addition to Captain Perry, an officer from Media Relations was waiting for her. She closed the door behind her.
“Easton,” began Captain Perry. “The journalist—”
“Lyle Barnham,” added the Media Relations officer.
“Mr. Barnham filed a complaint about you,” said the captain.
Seriously?“Why?” Emerson asked.
“For refusing to work with him again,” said the MR officer.
Emerson swallowed down the sigh. “Captain, I took him on a tour and answered all of his questions.”
“Let him tag along with you,” Perry said. “He might prove to be an asset in this case.”
“I don’t—” Emerson protested.
“He told me his publisher wants to—and I quote—'be a friend to the department’,” said the officer.
“Great,” Emerson said, biting back the mounting frustration. “Why doesn’t he work with someone else while I solve these crimes?”
The captain shook her head. “Work with him, Detective.”
I am not getting a break.“Of course.”
The Media Relations officer stood. “He’ll be contacting you directly.”
Emerson waited until the MR officer left. “Captain, I want to talk with you about my brother’s death.”
“I’m sorry but the case is closed and out of my hands.”
“I know I’ve brought this up several times since Doug died, but I’m convinced he didn’t die of a self-inflicted overdose.”
“And I believe you, but the tox report is all the evidence the department has.”
“I want to go undercover and infiltrate the gang.”
Captain Perry’s jutting eyebrows creased her forehead. “This isn’t a bunch of kids hanging on the street corner selling a little weed. This is an extremely dangerous group of individuals. It took Doug eighteen months to earn their trust. I’m sorry, Emerson, but I can’t recommend you for that assignment.”
“Then, can we honor Doug at the fund raiser?”
“He’ll be mentioned.”
Emerson’s blood pressure soared. She wanted to scream, but throwing a tantrum wouldn’t bring back her brother. Being “honored” and being “mentioned” were two completely different things. Her brother was a good cop who got killed because he was close to making an arrest. He wasn’t a user hooked on heroine.
With nothing left to say, Emerson returned to her desk. She had zero interest in working with Lyle Barnham. And her interest in working for the police department was fizzling fast. Her faith in the organization had hit an all-time low. How could no one see what she saw? Why wouldn’t anyone back her on this?
* * *
Truth was, Stryker had a packed schedule, but he needed to see Emerson. Though he told himself it was to help her catch a killer, he hadn’t stopped thinking about her. Over the past week, she’d unpacked herself in his brain and he could not evict her from his thoughts.
Stryker’s assistant buzzed him. “Cooper Grant is here.”
His office door opened and his childhood friend sailed in. Cooper was Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the FBI’s DC office.
“No bottle of scotch, so you’re here on business,” Stryker said. “Never a good thing.”