She was on shaky footing. Her once-carefree demeanor had changed. Her actions were tempered with caution. Her words more measured and thought out. She was on edge all the time, though she thought she was doing a pretty good job of hanging in there. At least in public.
The news that she would testify again this week was actually welcome. She just wanted to get it over with so she could put it all behind her. Though she knew as soon as the grand jury handed down the indictments, the plea bargaining would start, then the trials. It wasn’t going to end, not really, for a very long time. And there was nothing she could do to erase the memory of David Martin, dead on her billiards room floor.
None of it mattered. She had a job to do, and she was going to do it.
Fitz came into the squad room, whistling.
“Ahh, Mr. Fitz. Thank you for joining our little party.”
“Don’t mention it. I strive to achieve perfect timing.”
“And so you have.” She sat on the edge of her desk. “Okay guys, let’s get started.”
Marcus Wade, her wet-behind-the-ears rookie, and Lincoln Ross, her seasoned computer expert, faced her expectantly. Fitz took a seat across from her. He was her veteran; they’d been together for years now. Between the four of them, Taylor was pretty certain they could crack any case that came their way.
“What’s happening at Centennial?”
“There’s nothing turning up on the grid search,” Fitz said. “And we haven’t found any witnesses. Even Adidas claims to have been asleep on his personal bus bench, like a good little boy.”
Adidas, so named for his labeled gym bag from the sporting goods company, was one of Nashville’s many homeless citizens and a well-known fixture around the park, but not a threat to anyone but the pigeons. “Was he sober?” Taylor smiled to herself. Fat chance of that.
“Naw, he was reeking like a distillery. He must have lit it up last night. Didn’t even hear the sirens this morning.”
“Too much to ask to have a witness, I guess. Okay, boys. Here’s what’s going to happen. Price and I decided Fitz is going to take over some of my cases so I can focus on our murder this morning. Is that cool with you, Fitz? I’m going to keep you in the loop on everything that happens, and if we need to pull you back in full-time, we’ll do it. I’m hoping we can wrap this up quickly, but if not...”
“Fine by me. You gonna let the kid here run with you?” He pointed at Marcus Wade, who sat up straighter in his chair. This was the highest-profile case he’d ever been tapped to work.
“Yep, that’s the plan. If you would be so kind as to wrap up the park and file your report, I’d appreciate it. Then you can start messing around with my stuff.”
“Sure thing.” He gave her a smile, and Taylor thanked whatever being had sent Fitz her way. Any other detective would have gotten snotty or hurt by the request to stand down, but Fitz knew enough about the politics not to worry. Taylor knew he would never suspect her of cutting him out of a case to take the glory for herself. He had told her from the beginning that her move to lieutenant would cut back some of his responsibilities and allow him the space to prepare for a graceful retirement from the force in a few years. Taylor returned the smile with gratitude.
She turned to Marcus. The kid was handsome, with long brown hair and puppy-dog brown eyes. He made a good impression to the outside. Taylor knew under his happy-go-lucky exterior, he was smart, and despite his lack of experience, she was happy to have him. Eagerness was sometimes a better quality in a detective than years on the job; people got staid and used to their own methods. Taylor liked Marcus’s fresh perspective in her investigations.
“Marcus, you work with the Metro spokesman, Dan Franklin. He needs to be briefed so he can give a statement. I want to be in complete control of all the info before we talk to anyone. So no leaks about anything, okay? Hopefully we’ll have an ID on this girl and can inform her next of kin, maybe even a cause of death, and we can release it in the statement. The mayor’s pressing for something official ASAP.” Taylor snorted through her nose. “She’s pretty fired up. The big arts and crafts fair starts Friday, and she’s pushing to get the scene cleared and the park open.”
“Got it.”
“And, Marcus? I know you and Lee Mayfield have been seeing each other. No preferential treatment, and no pillow talk. Okay?”
Marcus turned three shades past eggplant and looked at his desk. It wasn’t a huge secret that he had been dating the crime reporter for The Tennessean.
“Umm, actually, I broke it off. She’s not very cool. I’ll talk to Franklin.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Well, maybe I’m not. Forget about her. You’re right, she isn’t cool at all.”
She felt badly that Marcus had been forced to air that tidbit in front of everyone, but such was life. Lee Mayfield was a bitch, and Taylor was happy Marcus had gotten her out of his system. She would sink her claws into any man she thought would give her some scoop. At least the kid learned his lesson early.