LITMIR.BIZ

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wonder Daltrey was in such a foul mood. She must have been hoping for a full confession after they brought Shepherd in. Without that, they’d need evidence of guilt before they could charge him and, from the looks of things, they didn’t have it.

      Closing the folder, she pushed it back across to him.

      ‘Is the lieutenant in?’ she asked.

      It had been a long time since she’d asked to talk to Blazer about anything – she saw the surprise register on Dwayne’s face.

      ‘He is …’ His voice trailed off, doubtfully.

      ‘I’d like to speak with him,’ Harper said.

      Dwayne didn’t move. ‘He’s in a bad mood today.’

      She didn’t take the hint. ‘When is he not?’

      ‘If that’s what you want …’

      Still looking doubtful, Dwayne picked up the phone and pushed a few buttons.

      ‘Lieutenant? Harper McClain is here. She’d like to talk to you about that River Street case.’

      A long pause followed then, and Harper could hear the faint rumble of Blazer complaining. Dwayne’s expression didn’t change as he listened patiently.

      When Blazer finally stopped, he said, ‘Great, then. Should I send her back?’

      Blazer barked a one-syllable command. Dwayne slid the phone onto the receiver and looked up at her, worry visible in his eyes.

      ‘He says come on through.’

      Harper rested a hand on his desk. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘You may not say that after you talk to him.’

      Harper crossed the room to the security door leading into the police offices. Dwayne pressed a button on his desk, and the door unlocked with a loud buzz.

      She pulled it open and walked through.

      When she and Bonnie had been here two nights ago, it had been silent and dark. Now it was teeming with police. Harper joined the flow heading down the long corridor.

      Blazer worked out of an office that she still thought of as Smith’s, at the end of the hallway. Smith’s name had been removed from the door more than a year ago, but Blazer’s didn’t look right to her, painted on the wood in funereal black.

      Without giving herself time to think it over, she raised her fist and knocked with as much confidence as she could muster.

      ‘Enter,’ a voice ordered gruffly.

      Lieutenant Larry Blazer sat at his desk in front of a laptop. He wore a charcoal-gray suit. When he looked up at her, his pale-blue tie perfectly matched his cold eyes.

      Even she had to admit he was a handsome man – lean and athletic, with a lush head of hair going silver in an artful way. But he wasn’t her type. At all.

      The feeling, she knew, was mutual.

      ‘This better be important, McClain,’ he grumbled, gesturing at the chairs in front of his desk.

      As she crossed the room and sat where he indicated, Harper’s eyes were drawn to all the things he’d changed. Smith’s ostentatious mahogany desk had been replaced with a modern table made of some light, Scandinavian wood. Gone were the photos of Smith with local dignitaries and the golf ball paperweight. The desktop was empty save for the sleek silver laptop and a few files.

      The only thing on the wall was a poster-sized street-map of Savannah, dotted with about forty crimson pins.

      A quick glance at the streets marked told Harper it was a map of murders.

      ‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ she said, turning her attention back to Blazer. ‘I think we need to talk.’

      ‘Talk about what, exactly?’ His tone was chilly.

      Harper braced herself. If he was going to throw her out, it would happen in the next sixty seconds.

      She cleared her throat. ‘Lieutenant, it’s been over a year since Smith was arrested and I’m still being punished by your department. The constant harassment is making it impossible for me to do my job. It needs to stop.’

      Blazer shot her an incredulous look.

      ‘Did you really come to my office to complain that my hard-working officers are being mean to you?’

      ‘This isn’t about being mean,’ she said evenly. ‘It’s about unprofessional behavior by public servants toward a member of the press. Last night, one of your officers assaulted me at a crime scene.’

      Any remnants of humor left Blazer’s face.

      ‘That’s a serious allegation. You better be able to back that up.’

      ‘It happened during the arrest of Wilson Shepherd,’ Harper said. ‘Numerous officers were present and witnessed the incident. Bob Kowalski shoved me against a patrol car and said he was going to arrest me for disorderly conduct because I didn’t move quickly enough when he asked me to leave the scene.’

      Blazer made a dismissive gesture. ‘Is that all? Perhaps you should have moved. My officers need to work unimpeded. That situation was dangerous. It’s Kowalski’s job to keep you safe.’

      Swallowing her indignation, Harper kept her tone cool.

      ‘Come on, Lieutenant. Last night the only thing threatening my safety was Bob Kowalski. He went too far. He manhandled me. And I think he did it because you encourage that kind of behavior.’ Seeing his face darken, she raised one hand. ‘Please hear me out. I’m not here to hurl allegations. I’m here to ask you to stop this. You wanted to punish me?’ She held up her hands. ‘Congratulations. I’ve been punished. You succeeded. I got the message. Now I need you to call them off. Before someone gets hurt.’

      Blazer leaned forward, a thin smile twisting his lips.

      ‘Aren’t you up to the job, anymore, McClain? Maybe you should consider another beat if this one is too hard for you.’

      This time, Harper couldn’t control her temper. She’d kept this all bottled up for too long.

      ‘Too hard for me?’ Her voice rose. ‘One of your detectives shot me in the shoulder, Lieutenant. And I kept coming to work. Every single night I go out on the same streets as your officers, only I do it without a vest or a gun. And they humiliate me. They ignore my questions and they ridicule me. They tell sources not to speak to me. I have to get my photographer to ask questions for me because your officers are so unprofessional and childish. Too hard?’

      She stood up, gripping her notebook with such force it bent. She hadn’t known until this moment how furious she really was. How painful this had been.

      How much it had hurt.

      ‘I am not asking for special treatment. I’m asking for basic respect and professionalism. For God’s sake, Lieutenant. One of your detectives murdered a woman, but I’m the one being punished for exposing what you should have found.’

      The Lieutenant tried to interject, but she refused to let him talk over her.

      ‘If this is the way you want to play this, be very careful,’ she said. ‘Because I am not going anywhere. And if you want war, you should know my editors would love me to demolish your department. Nobody could do that better than me. Your case resolution rates are shit. Your incident response times are worse. Murder rates are up and you know it.’ She pointed an accusing finger at the map behind his desk. ‘Things have gotten worse since Smith left and I could be asking you about that. If we’re going to talk about who’s up to the job they’re in, we could start with you. Instead, I’m giving you the chance to fix this.’

      Finally running out of fury, she drew a breath. ‘You should thank me.’

      Blazer held up his hands.

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