Matt’s cell phone started vibrating. Digging it out of his
pocket, he knew that at this hour the caller could be only one of two people.
As he read his new supervisor’s name on the face, Lt. Howard McKensie from
Hollywood Homicide, his heart quickened.
Matt had been cleared for active duty just two days ago by
his doctors at USC Medical Center and by an LAPD psychiatrist working out of
the Behavioral Science Section in Chinatown.
McKensie cleared his throat, his voice rough and ready. “Why
aren’t you sleeping, Jones? It’s two in the fucking morning and you’re not
sleeping. This is what worries me about you.”
Matt glanced back at the wildfire. “Everybody’s up,
Lieutenant. The canyon’s on fire.”
“Your place gonna burn?”
“Doesn’t look like it, unless the wind changes.”
“Good,” McKensie said. “Then I need to see you in my office
ASAP.”
Matt stood up. “You’ve got something for me already? A new
case?”
“Yeah, Jones. It looks like you’ve caught a new case.”
— Robert Ellis, THE LOVE KILLINGS
Photo by Fan, Rosa St.Claire |
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