Justifiable Risk by V. K. Powell

here. Get your ass in my office, and I mean now. ”

Chapter Seven

    Fred Fluharty strummed his fingers on the old metal desk in his office and glared at her. The sound bounced off nearby file cabinets with an annoyingly tinny resonance. He looked tired and his clothes were wrinkled like he might’ve slept in them, again. She knew about his divorce but chose not to cross the line into his personal business unless he invited her.
    “Don’t you want to know why I called you in?” he asked.
    “I’ve got a pretty good idea.” Sweating, she tried not to blush. She hated having the sergeant call her into his office, especially when it involved personal matters. She was guilty, with no defense.
    “Why did I tell you I couldn’t assign JJ to review the Saldana case? Do you even remember that conversation?”
    Greer nodded without looking at him. He had done so much for her, and she repaid him by acting like a horny schoolgirl.
    “I want to hear you say it.” Fluharty’s expression soured. He propped his arms on the desktop and his pudgy fingers fanned out from his hands like he was trying to resist the urge to strangle her.
    “He’d try to get in Eva’s pants.”
    “Right, so imagine my surprise when he woke my ass up at two in the morning, drunk, to tell me you’d taken on that task. His language was more colorful. You fucked this woman?”
    She flinched at his use of the word but wasn’t sure why. That’s exactly what she’d done, but to hear the sergeant or JJ refer to it in such terms bothered her. She nodded again.
    “Have you suddenly gone mute? That would definitely be a first.”
    “I messed up.” She’d disappointed him, and though it probably shouldn’t have happened, she couldn’t bring herself to apologize for having sex with Eva.
    “You know what I need to do.”
    Taking her off the case was the right thing. She’d violated a basic rule of police work: don’t get personally involved with victims, witnesses, or family members. But she also wanted to get to the bottom of Paul Saldana’s death—for her own peace of mind, to vindicate JJ, and for Eva. Still, she struggled for a logical reason to stay on the case. Fluharty stared at her as if waiting for a rebuttal. “I got nothing, Sarge.”
    “Damn it, Greer. I counted on you. I need you on this.”
    “I’m sorry. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know how I would’ve survived the last two years. After Clare—” She fought back a choking feeling in her throat. “I owe you a lot.”
    “It’s not about owing. It’s about doing a job. Can you promise this won’t happen again?”
    Greer finally met Fluharty’s stare. “No.”
    Her answer obviously surprised him. “She means something to you?”
    “I wouldn’t say that exactly. She’s different. But I won’t lie to you if I’m not sure.”
    “I appreciate that. You’re a hell of a detective, and I want you to finish this, fast. Eva’s not directly involved with the case, though that’s splitting hairs. I’ll have to do some damage control with JJ—once he gets over the shock of losing a piece of ass like that to you. Sorry.”
    “Why doesn’t he want me to do this review, Sarge?”
    “Maybe he thinks he missed something and will be embarrassed. Maybe he’s hiding something. Maybe something in his past. Damn if I know. You two need to talk. So, you’ll try to keep it in your pants and clear this ASAP?”
    “Absolutely.”
    “Got anything so far?”
    “I didn’t find anything in the crime-scene photos and we don’t have any forensic evidence. But Eva found an address in Paul’s BlackBerry of the warehouse he was scouting.”
    Fluharty shuffled some papers on his desk but his gaze held Greer’s. “And?”
    “I checked it but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. But I might go back. I didn’t get through the whole thing.”
    “Don’t waste your time. He didn’t die there, and the fact he’d been there probably won’t help us. Anything else?”
    “Not