“So we’re victim-shaming now?” I close the file and look into Kirk’s eyes. “The report says she was on the sidewalk. Walking out of a store after doing her groceries. Shopkeeper’s statement says she was a regular, and this day was like any other. No one has even mentioned she might’ve been under the influence, but Drew felt the need to spend thousands of departmental dollars to run tox screens on a dead woman who wasat no pointin the wrong?”
“Well…” Visibly uncomfortable, Kirk clears his throat. “Yes. Doctor Kernicke wondered if maybe she’d been drinking, or something of that nature, and stumbled into the—”
“No.” I set her file aside and open the next. “Forty-four-year-old Cheryl Brace. Victim of a snatch and grab that went bad. They tussle. She falls and hits her head. Dead at the scene. Bag-snatcher bolts and is later caught while trying to use her credit card.” I close the file and look at Kirk. “Why has Kernicke once again spent thousands on tox screenings?”
“He thought maybe since she was out late at night that—”
“Absolutely not. And while we’re on the topic, that’s appalling, misogynistic thinking. I will not tolerate such behavior from you as we go forward. I understand you’ve been mentored by Drew up till now, Doctor Kirk, so I can understand your current caseload may have a certain,” my lips peel back into a snarl, “patriarchalleaning. But you’ll knock it off, effective immediately. You will bring your files to me in the morning—and you’ll do so every single Monday from now until I’m satisfied you’re doing your job without Kernicke-colored glasses. If such behavior persists, you’ll be looking to update your resume. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Doctor.” He coughs to clear his throat once more. “Uh… I’m sorry if—”
“I don’t want words, I want actions. Close them, Kirk. Put them to rest.”
Tossing the first two folders back across the desk, I open the next in front of me. “Jeremy Tull. Sixty-seven years old. Died in his sleep. Suffered from advanced pancreatic cancer and chose to live his final days at home.” Glancing up, I scowl at Kirk’s paled face. “Why has Kernicke still got this open?”
“He wanted to run tox. He, uh—”
“Jeremy had a lovely wife at home, didn’t he? Kernicke couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make sure Mrs. Tull didn’t kill the man with a poisoned pie?”
Disgusted, I slam the folder shut and shove the rest across my desk with a glare. “Zero tolerance for this bullshit, now that I’m here. And if you say the words ‘but Doctor Kernicke said’ to me ever again, I’m going to shove a pencil into your trachea and twist. Are we clear?”
“Um—”
“Great.”
My desk phone trills, and the man across from me stares like it’s a bomb readying to explode.
Reaching out with a fast swipe, and using my left hand to tell the young idiot to wait, I bring the phone to my ear. “Doctor Mayet speaking.”
“Hey, you remember that murder-suicide we saw on the news?” Aubree swivels around in her chair on the other side of the glass wall. “Or what wethoughtwas a murder-suicide.”
“It’s not?”
“Mm-mm. Got another down by the bay, and we’re being called off the bench. Two dead, one with a shot through the face, the other with a bullet out the back of his head. It appears to be murder-suicide at first glance, but now they’re starting to question that.”
“Lead detectives?”
“Out of Midtown,” she answers easily. “No Malones in sight.”
“Perfect.”
Pushing up to stand, I hold the phone between my shoulder and ear, and use my hands to hurriedly switch my computer off. “Let’s take it. Grab the bag, I’m coming now.”
Hanging up, I look at Kirk and grin. “We’ve just been called out to a crime scene, but I intend to keep following along with you, Doctor Kirk. You have one day to clean up your files and make certain they don’t piss me off. After that,” I step around my desk and move to the coat rack near the door, “if I find even a sniff of bullshit in your notes, you’ll be looking for a new job. Do we have an understanding?”
“Y-yes, Chief.” He stands too and grabs his pile of paperwork. “I’ll clean everything up and do better. Thank you for the opportunity to show you—”
“Excellent.” I swing my office door open. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he murmurs. “It’s just about five, so I’ll just—”
I bark out a laugh loud enough to make even Aubree startle. “You’re on-call, Kirk, and you’re assisting me on this case.” I glance down at the folders in his arms. “Put those down—andrun. Show me you can process a case without Kernicke holding your hand.”
“Excuse me,” Aubree hums under her breath. “He’s not part of our group.” She shrugs her coat on and cinches the belt at her waist. “I never said he could sit with us.”
“Buck up, princess. Besides, he won’t be sitting. He’ll be working.”
* * *