Unseen (Will Trent / Atlanta Series)

your husband can try again. Trust me, what you’re going through now—it gets easier. It doesn’t ever go away, but it gets different.”
    Lena pulled a box of tissues out of her desk. She had to get her shit together. She was at work. She had to stop dwelling on this. There was no way she could lead her team if they saw her sobbing at her desk. She wiped her eyes, blew her nose.
    “Okay,” Lena told the woman. “Thank you. I need to get back to work.”
    “Mrs. Long. Lena. You really should go home. Don’t do this to yourself. Nobody gets a medal for being tough.”
    “Okay.” Lena made her voice stronger. “Thank you for calling. I have to go.”
    “But—”
    Lena hung up the phone. She blew her nose again. She wiped her eyes until they felt raw. Maybe it was different at a doctor’soffice, but at the police station, they gave out medals all the time for being tough.
    Lena turned to her computer. She clicked on the ultrasound file and dragged it into the trashcan. She clicked on the Finder menu, then scrolled down to Empty Trash. Her finger stayed pressed down on the mouse. Her heart thumped in her chest.
    “Lee?” Paul Vickery banged on the door as he walked into her office. He stopped. “What’s wrong? Somebody yank your nose hair?”
    “I’ve gotta stupid cold.” Lena scrolled back up the menu, went to Edit, then selected Undo Move to Trash. She didn’t look up at Paul until she saw the file safely back on her desktop. “What is it?”
    “You make a decision yet, boss?”
    The decision. They’d planned the raid for next week, but their snitch had told them a big shipment was coming in tonight. Even before she lost the baby, Lena wasn’t comfortable moving up the schedule. She wanted more time to prepare. Apparently, no one else felt this way. She was feeling pressure from all sides to go in. More money, more guns, more dope, more jail time.
    She told Paul, “Yeah, everybody else knows but you.”
    “Just checking, Kemosabe. No need to get your panties in a wad.”
    She heard a familiar chug from her computer. Paul wasn’t the only one who was getting antsy. Denise Branson had sent another email. Lena scanned the first line, which dove straight into the fact that after last night’s overtime, Lena’s investigation had crossed the one-million-dollar mark.
    “Damn, girl.” Paul read over her shoulder. “You pissed her off something righteous. What’re you gonna do?”
    “She’ll be fine once she gets her picture in the paper.”
    “Vanhorn and Gresham,” Paul read from the email. “Sid Waller’s lawyer’s from that firm, right?”
    Lena clicked the email closed as she stood up. “We’re gonnadraw straws to see who goes down into the basement first. I’m gonna hold them. One person gets to pick from each team.”
    Paul grinned like a possum. “Good thing I’m feeling lucky, partner.”
    “Did y’all finish taping off the diagram?”
    “Yeah. Had to keep DeShawn from using his protractor.”
    “Good. We’re going to rehearse this thing until we know it in our sleep.” Lena grabbed her jacket on the way out.
    Paul said, “It’s eighty degrees in the shop.”
    “Thanks for the weather update.” Lena pulled on the jacket as she walked down the hallway. Her hormones were still out of whack. She was cold all the time, except when she was burning up. That’s what she should’ve asked that stupid woman from Dr. Benedict’s office about, not something that had happened six years ago.
    Paul said, “You’re going to—”
    “Shit.” The zip was caught in her shirt.
    “Here.” Paul stood in front of her. He started working on the zipper like she was three. Paul wasn’t the only one who’d been treating her more delicately lately. Lena guessed she was putting out some pregnant woman pheromones. Or at least she had been.
    Paul said, “I think we’re gonna have a problem with Eric. He’s acting weird.”
    “How?”
    “He’s being too quiet.” He added, “That thing in the van the other day was funny, but he’s hiding something.”
    “Hiding what?”
    “Exactly.”
    Lena watched Paul’s fingers as he tried to free her shirt from the zipper. She thought about the little blue jacket she’d ordered online. Jared’s family loved Auburn football to the point of making it a religion. Lena had yelled at him for painting the nursery, but she couldn’t resist going online last week and ordering a baby-sized Auburn hoodie from Tiger Rags.
    The jacket was on