Mr. Monk and the New Lieutenant by Hy Conrad Page A

captain?” Julie and the captain were good friends, dating back to when they met. She’d been eleven and involved in her first murder case.
    â€œNo,” I repeated. “It’s a different case.”
    â€œTwo cases? Mom, you need an intern—that’s all I have to say.”
    â€œI wish, but I’m sure you’re going to say more.”
    Trevor poked his head up over my monitor. “Your Wi-Fi is password protected. That’s good. How about your computer?”
    â€œAlso password protected and I change it every week.”
    â€œHm, you should really change passwords every day.”
    â€œThat’s not going to happen.”
    He shrugged in the same way parents shrug at their clueless kids. “Any other devices in the office?”
    â€œThere’s an identical computer in the closet, but I’m not sure it’s ever been turned on.”
    â€œYour phone?”
    â€œI keep it with me.”
    It didn’t take Trevor long to sweep through my system, or whatever the process is called. Meanwhile, Julie and I unwrapped Monk’s computer from the closet and set it up. “It’snever even been initiated,” announced Trevor after a few clicks. And we wrapped it back up.
    Using another mysterious black box, Trevor toured the office slowly, listening on a headset for something. “All clear, Mrs. T.,” he finally reported. “You’re good to go.”
    I didn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. “So you’re saying there are no bugs, no cameras, nothing funny on our computers. Nothing missing or added to the office.”
    â€œI don’t know about the missing or added part,” he said.
    â€œMom, what’s up?”
    â€œNothing, sweetie. Nothing Adrian and I can’t handle.” I clasped my hands and put on a happy face. “Thank you so much, Trevor. I owe you and Julie a fancy dinner somewhere.”
    â€œSweet,” said Trevor.
    â€œMom,” said Julie in a tone that suggested having dinner with Trevor would not count as a reward.
    A minute later, I watched from the doorway as the thin young man opened the car door for Julie. Then I waved them on their way, all smiles until they disappeared.
    Who the hell was Sue Puskedra? I had to ask myself. If I knew who she was, I’d have a fighting chance of figuring out her game. If I knew her game, I’d have a chance of figuring out who she was. As it was, I knew nothing except that I had trusted her.
    That was the most galling part, I guess. She had made me care. I had listened to her dilemma, felt a real connection, and sat in my Subaru for hours waiting for a man to walk up to a mansion in Pacific Heights and kiss another man. I’deven fretted over how to break the news to her that her husband was gay.
    I’d been had. And I did not like the feeling.

CHAPTER TWELVE
    Mr. Monk and the Old Lieutenant
    P olice Chief Disher dragged in his suitcase and dropped a carry-on duffel bag off his shoulder. He looked just as boyish as he had the first time I’d met him standing over a corpse in my living room all those years ago. Even though Monk had been the one to insist that Randy work with us in San Francisco, of course Randy was staying at my house.
    Randy glanced around the Julie shrine and smiled. “Jonas Brothers,” he said, pointing to an old poster taped above the bed. “How did you know I was a fan?”
    â€œWho isn’t a Jonas Brothers fan?” I said, and left it at that.
    â€œYou’re making me feel very welcome. But I just have to warn you, this is temporary.”
    â€œOf course it’s temporary,” I said. “I’m not about to have a roommate.”
    â€œI mean, I’m not taking back my old job. I could tell from the way Monk was talking on the phone . . .”
    â€œAdrian isn’t the most subtle person.”
    â€œI know I complain about being chief, but I’m going to