Two O'Clock Heist: A Rebecca Mayfield Mystery (The Rebecca Mayfield Mysteries Book 2) by Joanne Pence

didn’t mean it. It suddenly dawned on her that she had never had a conversation with Paavo about anything outside of work and cases. Even this was more about her as a cop than about her as a person. She had never joked with him, never really laughed—not like she did with Richie. And yet, Paavo was the one she had held up as her ideal. The realization so confused her that she stood. “I’m sorry, but I’m out of here.”
    Paavo also stood. “Rebecca, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
    “I know.” She didn’t look his way as she picked up her belongings, and adjusted her Glock in her back holster, but then she heard a familiar voice behind her.
    “Hey, Paavo. How’s it goin’?”
    She cringed as Paavo called, “Doing well, Richie. We were just talking about you.”
    “Oh?” Richie’s gaze met with Rebecca’s.
    She gaped, then grabbed his arm, and spun him around. “Out! Right now! We’re leaving.”
    He glanced at Paavo who shrugged.
    “Yes, ma’am,” Richie said, as she all but dragged him to the elevator.
    o0o
    Rebecca fumed in silence until she and Richie left the building. “What in the world are you doing here?”
    “It’s a beautiful day,” he said calmly. “I was thinking about what you said about the detective in Sausalito not working yesterday. He should be there today, so maybe we need to visit him.”
    She put her hands on her waist. “You don’t need to go with me.”
    “Actually I do, because one wrong word from the detective and you’ll bite his head off and end up blacklisted.”
    “And you’ll prevent that how?”
    He grinned. “I’m your charm offensive. Come on.” He flung an arm across her shoulders. “I’ll even let you drive.”
    “I’m on call, you know. Any second, I might have to turn around and come back to the city.”
    “It’s too beautiful an afternoon for murder. The next one shouldn’t happen until nightfall.”
    Actually, he was right about that. Afternoons were the quietest times in Homicide. Also, she was glad to get away from her desk. Everyone’s sudden concern about her social life was hard to take.
    She drove the BMW. She didn’t know what made her more nervous, the way the cars had to squeeze together to merge onto the Golden Gate Bridge, or Richie’s  stomping his foot through the floorboard as if a brake pedal was there when he thought she didn’t see a merging car.
    But then, inspiration struck on how to get him to ignore her driving. “By the way,” she said sweetly, “Angie told Paavo that your mother knows I’m a homicide inspector.”
    “ What?”
    She smiled, and enjoyed the rest of the journey.

     
     
     
    CHAPTER 11
     
    The Sausalito Police Department was located in a red-brick, two-story building a few blocks inland from San Francisco Bay and the tourist shops and restaurants.
    Rebecca showed her badge at the front desk and explained that she was there as a friend of the murder victim, not an SFPD Homicide Inspector. Still, the eyes of the elderly officer at the desk narrowed as if he saw her putting her nose where it didn’t belong.
    He led her and Richie upstairs to a large, airy room with new-looking desks, and pointed towards a slightly built Chinese-American, who appeared to be in his forties. His desk was beside a window with a view of the waterfront. He stood as Rebecca and Richie walked towards him.
    They introduced themselves, then sat on the opposite side of his desk. The desk was remarkably tidy with one folder, closed, and a computer monitor.
    “Officer Grimes told me about your visit to the crime scene,” Wong said to Rebecca. “That was a courtesy, of course, since you work Homicide.”
    “Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate it.”
    “Now, what can I do for you while you’re in town?” A hint of irritation colored Wong’s words.
    “I’m here strictly as a private citizen—”
    “And you?” Wong cut her off as his gaze went to Richie.
    “I’m here as her friend,” he said.
    “Of course.”