Reckoning for the Dead by Jordan Dane

coffee in mock salute.
    Chief Cook gave her the stink eye and turned on his heels without saying another word. He left the diner, with Jessie watching him go. Even though her first encounter with the local police chief had been brief, she could tell already. Chief Cook had made a snap judgment about her. She saw it in his eyes because she’d seen it plenty before from other cops. He’d have no tolerance for any woman who would encroach on his territory and take up bounty hunting for a living. And a woman carrying a gun, legal or otherwise, got his testosterone all riled up.
    â€œGreat . . . just great.”
    â€œYou know the chief, honey?” the waitress asked as she set down Jessie’s breakfast and freshened up her coffee.
    â€œNot yet, but that’s about to change, unfortunately.”
    Before she’d finished her first cup of java, Jessie had been kicked out of town. That had to be a new record.
    Forty-five minutes later
    Chief Cook made Jessie wait while he pretended to take an important phone call. Like most cops she’d known, the man liked being in charge and made sure she got that point. Jessie was on her second cup of the swill he called coffee when the chief finally gestured her into his office, shutting the door behind her.
    â€œSo how do you know Detective Samantha Cooper in Chicago?” he asked.
    The chief sat behind his desk and invited her to sit in one of his visitor chairs while he made small talk and pried.
    â€œIn my line of work, I meet a lot of cops.”
    â€œIt’s just that she seemed to know you . . . beyond the job.”
    She could have offered him more, but the fact that she and Sam Cooper had been friends since childhood was none of his business, and her gal pal had nothing to do with why she’d come. Jessie had her secrets and had gotten really good at being evasive.
    â€œDon’t know what to tell ya.” She shrugged. “Chicago PD told me you scored a hit on my DNA from an old murder case. I just came to check it out, see if I could help.”
    â€œWhat makes you think I need your help? From what I can see, your attitude could use an overhaul.”
    Something in his smug expression flipped a switch in her. And even though it would have been better for Jessie to keep her mouth shut and stifle her cynicism, she just wasn’t good at that. Diplomacy was a skill set she didn’t have.
    â€œI’m a recovering smart-ass. Guess I’ve fallen off the wagon.” After she realized how she sounded, Jessie heaved a sigh and tried to reel it back a notch. “Look, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. I’d appreciate seeing what you’ve got.”
    â€œThat’s not how it works around here.” The chief leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. Real defensive. “This is my case. I ask the questions.”
    Jessie held up both hands, and said, “I didn’t mean to step on your toes, Chief. It’s just that I’m an investigator. And I thought that having another set of eyeballs on the murder book might help.”
    Jessie had never called herself an investigator—until now—but if her argument swayed the stubborn man behind the desk, then she’d beef up her résumé to include anything that would get her a foot in the door of his case.
    â€œNo offense, but that murder book is off-limits to civilians. Now I know you were only a kid at the time, so I won’t be needin’ your help. All I need is your cooperation. Big difference.” He narrowed his eyes. “Now what can you tell me about your blood evidence being found here in La Pointe?”
    Jessie didn’t know squat about how her blood had wound up in Wisconsin. She knew less about her past than most people since she’d blocked out the trauma of her childhood. And forget about old family albums. She didn’t have relatives or the usual trappings that could help trigger a