you request backup?”
“We didn’t even know for sure that shots had actually been fired at that point, so I didn’t think backup was necessary.”
Karen gave him a stony look. “And as a consequence, you almost got your rear end shot off and the suspect got away.”
Rafe felt his cheeks go red. As a big sister, Kate had never been much of a nurturer, and it was just like her to point out any mistakes he may have made.
He frowned at her and said, “Are you going to bust my chops or let me talk?”
“Go on.”
“When I got close to the building, I saw the door was ajar—”
“And you still didn’t call for backup?”
Rafe sighed. “What exactly are you investigating here? Me or the murders? I told dispatch what I was doing every step of the way. I’m not exactly a rookie, you know.”
Her frequent interruptions and insistence that he repeat his story made him feel like a suspect, as if she were expecting to expose him in some kind of lie. But he knew from previous conversations with her that this was merely a technique she employed to try to jog a witness’s memory and draw out more details.
“Just tell me what happened when you got inside,” she said.
“I saw the Jaguar, the bodies, then the shooting started.”
“And where was the suspect?”
“Across the garage.” Rafe pointed to the building behind them. “He came out that door and was gone before I could stop him.”
“Did you at least get a look at him?”
“My answer hasn’t changed since the last time you asked me. It was too dark. And he was wearing a hoodie.”
“And no license number from the car he was driving?”
Rafe just gave her a look.
“Okay,” she said, reading his unspoken message. She flipped her notebook shut and clipped her pen to it before putting it in her coat pocket. “Enough business for now. How are you doing? It isn’t fun getting shot at.”
“The only thing that’s hurting is my pride,” Rafe said. “I wish I could’ve caught the guy.”
“Sounds like you did what you could, little brother. I wouldn’t sweat it, if I were you.”
“Thanks. What do you want me to do now?”
Kate waved a hand at him. “You’re done here. Find your ride, go back to the station and write up your report.”
“That’s it?”
Her eyebrows went up. “You have a better idea?”
He shrugged. “I thought I might be able to assist somehow. Maybe help Eberhart with that canvass. Or help you inspect the crime scene.” He paused. “I’m thinking the owner of the auto repair shop must be connected to these guys somehow. Otherwise, what were they doing here?”
Kate smiled. “You just can’t wait to get rid of that uniform, can you?”
He hadn’t realized it was so obvious. The last thing he wanted was to come across like an anxious puppy. At twenty-five, he was still young, but he’d always thought he was pretty mature for his age. Ready to take the next step in his career.
Maybe he’d been deluding himself.
“As I said, I just want to help.”
Kate’s smile disappeared and she suddenly looked very serious. “You can help by being patient and doing your job, Rafael. Your time will come, but it may not be as soon as you want it to be, and that’s something you’ll just have to live with.”
Spoken like a true big sister, he thought. With just the right amount of condescension. Rafe had the urge to tell her where to stuff it, but remained professional.
“So are we good?” Kate asked.
“We’re good,” Rafe said.
She turned away and was about to start toward the garage when she stopped. “Just one last question.”
“Which is?”
“You didn’t touch the car, right? Didn’t try to do a little investigating of your own?”
Rafe felt his heart kick up and thought about the gas receipt that was still in his pocket. He’d meant to give it to her, but now he wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. Surely they’d be able to identify the bodies through fingerprint analysis, and his breach of protocol would never have to come to light.
If worse came to worst, he could give it to her later, claim he’d found it on the garage floor and in the excitement that followed had forgotten about it. But handing it over now would be a mistake. Especially after she had just treated him like a redheaded stepchild.
“Rafe?”
He blinked at her. “Give me some credit, sis, I’m not stupid enough to interfere with a crime scene.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Yes,” he lied. “Absolutely sure.”
She studied him skeptically. The woman had always had the uncanny ability to read him. Had caught him in a number of lies as they grew up, but had always been merciful enough not to tell their parents.
Kate was a good six years older than Rafe and that gap had given her enough insight to avoid the pettiness of sibling rivalry. She may not have been a nurturer, but she wasn’t a traitor, either. And nobody could ever say that the Franco kids didn’t look out for one another.
Even so, she really annoyed him sometimes.
“I’m going to trust you on that,” she said. “But if any fingerprints show up, you’re on your own.”
“They won’t,” he told her, relieved that he’d had the wherewithal to use his shirttail for protection. “I promise.”
She studied him a moment longer, then nodded and walked away, heading into the garage.
When she was gone, Rafe let out a long breath and tried not to feel too guilty.
Chapter Four
“So is your sister seeing anyone these days?”
The deputy he’d snagged to drive him back to the station was a guy named Phil Harris. Harris was what qualified in the patrol division as an old-timer, although he couldn’t yet be over forty. He’d been with the department since he was Rafe’s age and had never progressed further than a RS-3 pay grade.
Harris was a good cop, but not the most ambitious guy in the department.
“Sorry,
