Fatal Series 01 - Fatal Affair

you must wonder about the weird mistakes and stuff.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me before? I could’ve been doing all the reports.”
    “I don’t want that. It’s enough that you help me as much as you do.”
    “You still should’ve told me. We’re partners.”
    “Do I know everything there is to know about you?”
    He squirmed under the heat of her glare. “Most everything.”
    “We’ve all got our secrets, Cruz, and the last thing I want is special treatment. I don’t expect anything to change now that you know.”
    “Asking for help doesn’t make you weak, Sam. It makes you human.”
    “That’s the second time today someone told me what it means to be human. Don’t tell anyone about the dyslexia, all right?”
    “Who would I tell?” he huffed. “If you don’t know by now that you can trust me—”
    “If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have told you.” She paused before she said, “I’m sorry you had to hear that stuff I said to Peter. I know it was embarrassing for you.”
    “You got him to implicate himself, which is the goal of any interrogation.”
    “Still…”
    “I’m a big boy, Sergeant. I can handle it.”
    She looked at him with new appreciation. “Copy me on those reports, and you can run your domestic angle in the morning while I’m at the funeral.”
    “Got it.”
    “Go home after you finish the paperwork.”
    He held up a set of keys. “Your new ride, madam.”
    “Ohhh, what’d you get me? One of the new Tauruses?”
    “Yep. Navy blue.” He rattled off the parking space number.
    “Nice. Thanks.”
    “I might come by to watch the game later. I mean, if that’s all right with you.”
    “My dad invited you, didn’t he?”
    “Well, yeah, but…”
    “But what?”
    He smiled. “Nothing.”
    She pulled on her coat. “I’ll see you later, then. Oh, and thanks for having my back with the scumbag.”
    “No problem.” He followed her out of the office and closed the door behind him. “Sergeant Holland?”
    She turned to him, perplexed by his formality.
    “It’s a great pleasure to work with you.”
    “Back atcha, Detective. Right back atcha.”

    On her way out of the detectives’ pit, she stopped to peek into the office that would soon be hers. Since the day she made detective, she’d had her eye on the lieutenant’s spacious corner office. However, because of her struggles with dyslexia, she hadn’t really allowed herself to hope.
    She turned to leave and ran smack into Lieutenant Stahl.
    “Would you jump in my grave that fast, Sergeant?”
    Taken aback by his sudden appearance, Sam stepped aside to let him in and noticed he carried a box.
    “You must be feeling quite satisfied.” He flipped on the lights and dropped the box on the desk. “Shagged a witness, made lieutenant, stole my command and got away with it—all in the same week.”
    Sam leaned against the doorframe and let him spew, fascinated by the way his fat chin jiggled in time with his venomous words.
    “I mean do you honestly think you’d have gotten away with screwing a witness if your daddy wasn’t the chief’s buddy?” He tossed pictures and mementos into the box. “You can bet internal affairs will be interested in taking a closer look at that. In fact, you might just be my very first order of business.”
    Sam pretended to hang on his every word while she planned where to put her own things in the space.
    “This isn’t over, Sergeant. I refuse to turn a blind eye to blatant disregard for basic rules by someone who’s gotten where she is because of who she is.”
    Her hand rolled into a fist that she’d love to plant smack in the middle of his fat face, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, she pulled her notebook from her back pocket and reached for a pen.
    His eyes narrowed. “What are you writing?”
    “Just a note to maintenance. They need to do something about the smell in here.” As little red blotches popped up on his fat face, she returned the pad to her pocket. “Good luck in the rat squad, Lieutenant. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” Turning, she took her leave.
    “Watch your back, Sergeant,” he called. “Daddy won’t always be there to clean up your messes.”
    She turned around. “If you so much as look at my father with crossed eyes, I’ll personally break your fat-assed neck. Got me?”
    He raised an eyebrow. “A threat, Sergeant?”
    “No, Lieutenant. A promise.”

Chapter 31
    Following the confrontation with Stahl,