Free The Death of an Ambitious Woman by Barbara Ross

contact list and punched Send. The call would be complicated by one overriding factor. She hated Bob Baines. And Bob Baines hated her.
    Ruth sighed into the headset. Normally, she dealt with the grudges, jealousies, and factions that fueled the criminal justice community like a circulatory system by politely avoiding them. She just didn’t get it. Why did people waste time with that sort of nonsense? Her relationships with law enforcement types beyond the New Derby PD were professional and productive.
    Except with Bob Baines.
    Because Baines had done something he shouldn’t have. And Ruth knew it.
    Because Ruth hadn’t done something she should have. And Baines knew it.
    Because the only other person who knew the whole story, Detective Arthur Pezzoli, had been dead for seven years, leaving Ruth feeling like she and Baines were locked in a macabre dance, each with a loaded pistol cocked and pointed at the other’s head.
    Baines’s assistant picked up. Ruth explained that she needed to talk to the D.A. himself. Baines kept her waiting a good, long time.
    “Mrs. Murphy. What can I do for you?” His tone was patronizing with a hint of suspicion.
    “It’s about a case.”
    “Ah, a case.” Baines’s voice changed. He must’ve thought she’d called about his “chats” with New Derby’s aldermen sandbagging her appointment. Was he relieved or disappointed?
    “I have a missing person. His name is Albert Pace, a mechanic. He hasn’t been home for two days. I’m telling you this because I plan to go to the press.”
    “Where’s the mechanic from?”
    “Derby Mills.”
    “And he’s been gone for approximately forty-eight hours?”
    “Yes.” “And you’re going to the media with this story?” Baines all but guffawed. Guys like Pace disappeared from Derby Mills all the time and Baines had the child support backlog to prove it.
    “Yes. So, I’m informing you and asking if you want to participate.”
    Baines paused fractionally to show his contempt. “No, dear. I think you can handle this one. Let me know when the guy turns up.”
    “Fine.” Ruth felt the color in her face and neck rise, as it always did after a few minutes’ exposure to Baines. She squelched the instinct to take the bait and ended the call as quickly as she could.
    Ruth began to second-guess herself the moment she hung up. Sure, she had alerted Baines that she was going public with Al Pace’s disappearance, but she hadn’t told him about Pace’s connection to Tracey Kendall’s death. She hadn’t told him, because she knew the information would complicate things. She agreed with McGrath. Baines would dislike the Kendall case intensely, and while he couldn’t actually order her not to go to the press, he could insist on being involved, drag his feet, and control the message when they finally did get it out. Ruth knew every day that ticked by without finding Pace diminished their chances of finding the answers they were looking for in Tracey Kendall’s death.
    This evening, when Ruth talked to the press, she would have to make a choice. If she didn’t connect the mechanic’s disappearance with the beautiful, wealthy woman’s accident, the media would show as much interest in Pace’s whereabouts as Baines just had. But if Ruth did say they were looking for Al Pace in connection with Tracey Kendall’s death, Baines would go nuts—and so much for Mayor Rosenfeld’s directive to stay out of Baines’s way.
    Sitting by the side of the road, Ruth thought about her family. They’d all made sacrifices so she could have this chance to be chief. James and Sarah had cooperatively, if not always cheerfully, done their homework beside her at the kitchen table while she completed her master’s degree in Criminal Justice. They had only occasionally grumbled about the city meetings, seminars, and task forces that kept her out at night as she and the old chief worked to build the network she would need.
    And Marty. He had sacrificed not just