“My job,” Mike replied succinctly.

“You’re a homicide detective, damn it. You don’t have any business screwing around with the SOT team.”

“I thought they could use all the help they could get.”

“So you decided to barge in and take over?”

“I felt Sergeant Hoppes was making some… erroneous tactical decisions.”

Blackwell ran his hands through the hair at his graying temples. He’d aged remarkably little in the years Mike had known him. He must be sixty, at least, but he was still in good shape and looked much younger. “Sergeant Hoppes has trained for over five years to lead that team.”

“I didn’t interfere with his handling of the team. I interfered with his handling of the hostage situation and a mentally unstable individual. I thought I could talk the kid down. I thought I could get everyone out of there alive.”

“Well, you were sure as hell wrong about that, weren’t you?”

“With all respect, sir, no. If Hoppes had held his men back, as I instructed him to do, I think I could’ve resolved the matter without injury to anyone. It was only when the kid saw armed snipers flanking him on all sides that he panicked.”

“Says you. Hoppes tells a different story.”

I’ll bet. “I’ve submitted my report, sir. It contains everything I have to say.”

Blackwell was not appeased. “The one thing your report doesn’t explain is what you thought you were doing in the first place, pulling rank on Hoppes and playing James Bond on his turf!”

“Sir-”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve done something like this, Mike, and we both know it. I’ve tried to cover for you, but you’ve become a loose cannon. I never know what you’ll try next.”

“I give my job one hundred and ten percent. Is that a problem?”

“No.” He paused. “I suspect the problem is that you don’t have a life.”

“Sir?”

“If you had a wife and family you wouldn’t be running around arresting speeders for jollies and interfering in hostage situations.”

“Now wait a minute. That’s not fair.”

“Don’t give me not fair.” His voice hardened. “You know what’s not fair? I’ll tell you. Three people injured. Three dead. And why? Because they happened to go to a burger joint on the wrong day. That’s what’s not fair.”

Blackwell began pacing behind his desk. “I guess you know I’ve got the press crawling all over me. And the mayor. She’s furious. And who do I have to thank for that? One hotshot cop who can’t keep his nose out of other people’s business!”

So he’d been right; he was going to be fired. So we’ll go no more a-roving…

Fine. He wasn’t going to sit still and take it like a punching bag. “Look, you want my badge? You’ve got it!”

“Mike…”

“I know how this dirty game is played. Never mind all the years I’ve given this force. I’ll be your scapegoat.” He pulled out his badge and slammed it down on Blackwell’s desk. “Consider this my resignation.”

“Your resignation is not accepted.”

“It-” He stopped short. “What’s that?”

“It’s not accepted. I didn’t drag you down here to fire you.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. I didn’t. So siddown already.”

Mike did as he was told.

Blackwell took his seat behind his desk and stared intently at his steepled fingers. “How long have you and Tomlinson been working together?”

Mike cast his mind back. “Since the Kindergarten Killer case.”

“Right. A good long while. I wonder if maybe it’s time for a change.”

“Wait a minute. Tomlinson and I work well together. He’s my protégé.”

“That’s more or less the point.” Blackwell rifled through some records on his desk. “He doesn’t exercise much restraint on you, does he?”

“Should he?”

“I see in his report that he advised you against intervening in the Burger Bliss siege. But you basically blew him off.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that.”

“But why should you listen to him? He’s your protégé.”

Mike’s eyes began to narrow. “Sir… where are you going with this?”

“I’m sure you’ve figured that out already, Mike. I’m assigning you a new partner.”

“But sir, Tomlinson-”

“Tomlinson will be fine, Mike. He’s earned a promotion and he’s going to get it. Please don’t bother arguing-I’ve already made up my mind.”

Mike knew there was a time to play and a time to fold. He sensed this was one of the latter. So he remained calm and cool and asked, “Who did you have in mind?”

Mike continued to remain calm and cool-until about a second after he heard the name.

“Jesus Christ, sir. No! Anyone else. Please! Anyone but her!”

“Mike, you’re wasting your time.”

“Please reconsider. Please.”

“I’ve asked her to join us.” Blackwell pushed a button on his desk phone. “Send Baxter in, please.”

A moment later, Sergeant Kate Baxter entered the office. She was slender and about five feet nine, with honey-blonde hair that fell to her shoulder blades. Her skin was a trifle pale and lightly freckled. She did not wear makeup, nor did she seem to particularly need makeup. All in all, not an unpleasant package, but as far as Mike was concerned, he was looking at the Bride of Frankenstein.

“It’s alive!” Mike muttered under his breath.

“Major Morelli,” Blackwell said, “I’d like you to meet your new partner, Sergeant Baxter. And likewise.”

As she shook Mike’s hand, she stared levelly into his eyes. Mike knew she was sizing him up. Just as he was her.

“Nice to meet you at last,” Mike said.

“I’m sure.”

Was he wrong, Mike thought, or did he get the impression she wasn’t any happier about this assignment than he was? He only hoped it was true. Maybe there was hope yet.

“Sergeant Baxter has an outstanding record, Mike. As I think you know, she just transferred from the Oklahoma City Homicide Department. Worked some major cases. Made a big impression.”

“Your reputation precedes you, Sergeant,” he said, still looking at her.

“As does yours, Major.”

Mike arched an eyebrow. “What have you heard?”

She hesitated. “I don’t like to repeat gossip.”

“Relax, Sergeant. You can speak freely. After all, we’re going to be partners.”

“Well…” She held back a few more moments. She glanced at Blackwell, who just shrugged. And apparently decided, what the hell? “Well,” she said, staring straight at Mike, “I’ve heard that you’re an arrogant, authoritative, sexist pig who likes to quote obscure bits of poetry to make other people feel inferior.”

Mike felt his teeth rattle. This was never going to work. Never in a million years. “Is that right?”

“I’m afraid so. But I’m sure it’s all untrue.”

“It is. Except for the poetry part.”

“I see.” She smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. It was more like a don’t-push-me-or-I’ll-wring-your-neck smile. “And what have you heard about me?”

Well, why not? She started it. “Frankly, I’ve heard that you’re a ball-busting, man-hating royal pain in the butt. That your police skills are adequate, but that you alienated so many people you had to run down the turnpike and come work here.”

“Do tell.” Her face remained expressionless, but Mike knew he’d gotten to her. Good. He didn’t need this.

“Well, I’m glad we’ve cleared the air,” Blackwell said, eyes on the ceiling. “Now, why don’t we get to work?”

“Sir,” Mike said, “I wish to formally protest this assignment.”

“I don’t want to hear any more complaining. If you’ve got problems-work ’ em out.” He slid a file across his desk. “Here’s your first case. Get to it!”

As soon as he started back to Tulsa from McAlester, Ben punched up Speed Dial 1 on his cell phone. “Christina?”

“I’m here, faithful leader. How’s life in the slammer?”

“God willing, I’ll never know. I’ve got news.”

“Really?” Her voice fell. “I’ve got news, too.”

“Ray insists that we handle the habeas corpus proceeding.”

“You explained to him about the potential viability of an incompetent-counsel argument?”