Chapter 1
Sam Holland walked into the dank hole-in-the-wall that was O’Leary’s Bar and gave her eyes a second to adjust to the gloom. After hours outside in the broiling sun, the cool, moldy atmosphere was just what she needed. Well, that and a cold one with her dear old dad.
Skip waved to her from the far end of the bar, and when she walked over to him, he jumped up to hug and kiss her. “Hey, baby girl. You’re late.”
“Awwww,” Captain Malone said, “Daddy’s wittle girl is here.”
Since she’d known Malone for most of her life, she felt entirely comfortable giving her superior officer the middle finger, which made him howl with laughter.
“She’s all yours, Skip.” Malone threw a twenty on the bar. “God help you.”
Skip tightened his arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“See you guys tomorrow,” Malone said on his way out.
Sam took the stool Malone had abandoned and popped a handful of beer nuts into her mouth as she signaled the bartender for one of what her dad was having. “You really gotta do that?”
“Do what?” Skip was the picture of innocence when he knew damn well what she was talking about.
“The whole ‘baby girl’ schmoopy schmoop in front of other cops.”
Skip’s brows stretched to his hairline. “What in the name of fuck’s sake is schmoopy schmoop?”
“The hugging, the kissing.” Sam waved her hand to indicate the full scope of his greeting. She was already regretting this line of conversation, because she knew exactly what he would say.
“You’re my daughter.”
“I’m also one of your junior officers.”
“You’re my daughter first.”
“Dad! Seriously. It’s hard enough for me to deal with my dad being the deputy chief without you acting like my dad every chance you get.”
“Honestly, Sam, I am your dad, and I’ll damn well act like it until the day you bury me.”
Not wanting to think about burying him—ever—she nodded her thanks to the bartender when he delivered her beer and a fresh one for Skip. “You’re not making it easy for me.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted? If I recall correctly, your exact words were, ‘Hands off. Let me do my own thing.’”
“Yes! Hands off. No schmoop!”
“Sorry, that ain’t gonna happen.” He took a deep drink from his mug. “So I see you’re taking another half day.”
As he laughed at his own joke, she rolled her eyes at the almost daily comment. “Another eleven-hour half day.”
“Slacker. You know I expect better from you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Is that any way to talk to a superior officer?”
“It’s the only way to talk to my old man.”
“Who you calling old?” He pushed the beer nuts closer to her. “Want to get some dinner tonight?”
“I’d love to, but Angela talked me into going to a stupid party that I have no desire to go to, and now I’m committed, although I still hope to get out of it.”
“What’s up with the party?” Skip asked.
“A man of interest, apparently.”
“Is that right? Well, thank goodness. I thought she was going to mourn that jackass Johnny for the rest of her life.”
“Don’t go celebrating quite yet.”
“I’ll require a full report tomorrow. Meet for coffee?”
“After three years of meeting for coffee every day before work, you still have to ask?”
“Best part of my day, baby girl. Very best part.”
“Mine, too.” Sam smiled at his unabashed affection for her. She knew she’d made him so proud by joining the department, and continuing to make him proud was her only goal as a police officer—well, that and relieving Lieutenant Stahl of his corner office in the Homicide detectives’ pit. That was her other primary goal. Someday…
“So Angela’s actually showing interest in a guy who isn’t Johnny the douche bag?” Skip asked.
“Yeah.”
“You’re going to that party.”
“You can’t actually make me go.”
“Yes, I can.” The look he gave her