Free Every Breath You Take: A Novel (A Kristen Conner Mystery Book 2) by M.K. Gilroy

Marines—two tours in Iraq. He boxed while he was in the service and before that did some Golden Gloves. He definitely had fast hands. When I told him that he started flirting again. I cut him off. I told him to give me the gloves and to pick up the paddles.
    I offended him when I asked, “So you are an ex-Marine?”
    “No true Marine ever stops being a Marine. Semper Fi .”
    Okay. Dramatic. But I like the loyalty.
    I started out slow and steady but picked up the pace. I started mixing speed and power and then switched to kicks and karate chops with hands and elbows. I ended with a speed routine that is designed to take the muscles to absolute failure. It worked. I am shaky. The only reason I keep moving is to do an appropriate cool down and save myself from lactic acid buildup.
    “Let’s work out again sometime. You punch great.”
    I think he wanted to add, “for a girl,” but caught himself.
    “Give me your number so I can put it in my phone,” Gary continues.
    I hesitate. I give out my number all day every day but usually to witnesses and suspects.
    “I promise I won’t bug you,” he says. “I have a girlfriend already and I’m loyal like a Marine. I’ll just call if none of my workout partners want to punch.”
    I give him my number with a trace of uneasiness.
    “So what do you do?” he asks.
    “I’m a cop. Detective first class for the Chicago Police Department.”
    “I for sure won’t bug you, Detective Kristen.”
    “Good workout and thanks,” I say as I make my typical graceful exit. I step on a fat rope someone left at the edge of the map and about bite the dust. I look back and he’s watching me and laughing. I give a curtsy and head for the door.
    You better be loyal to your girl and not bug me Gary.
    • • •
    I put a towel on my seat and sink into my Miata. The ride home takes the customary ten minutes. I plan to take a quick shower but the water feels too good and I empty my water heater. My green consciousness is definitely reeling with all the water and electricity I just wasted. I flip on ESPN to Monday Night Football and watch Cincinnati versus Baltimore for twenty minutes. Ray Lewis has definitely slowed down and the Bengals are a lot better than I remember them being.
    First day back in the office. What a disaster. And what’s with no real welcome home? I wasn’t expecting a brass band to play “Seventy-Six Trombones” from The Music Man . But a little recognition within my department might have been nice. What is up with Zaworski anyway?
    So much for easing back into things. We’re on a full-blown high profile murder case. Well the others are and I plan to be tomorrow. I don’t need to ease back in anyway. I’ve had an all-expense vacation in Quantico, Virginia. My knee feels great. I’m ready to go.

16
    I GOT CALLED into Zaworski’s office this morning within five minutes of arriving at the precinct. I was actually twenty-five minutes early.
    Sergeant Konkade and Bob Blackshear were in the office with him. Blackshear works at the Fourth Precinct so I wonder what he’s doing over here.
    “Sit down, Conner,” Zaworski orders with his patented charm and courtesy.
    I smile at Konkade who ignores me. Blackshear and I nod to each other. He’s a rung or two above me on the detective ladder. I can see him getting a big-time promotion in the near future.
    “Blackshear is here because he is going to run Homicide in the Second for a month or so.”
    Apparently I am a prophet. Okay. That’s a surprise.
    “And in case you’re wondering where I’ll be and what I’ll be doing don’t ask because I’m not saying right now.”
    “Yes sir.”
    “I like that, Conner. Just keep saying ‘yes sir’ and don’t ask any . . . darn questions.”
    “Yes sir.”
    He looks up to see if I’m being a smart aleck. I am. But I think I have emptied my face of even the hint of a smile or any other sign of mirth or emotion.
    “In the big scheme of life, I’m not sure if our Durham