"You'd better not be late again," Hadlee laughs from behind the café counter. "I'll try not to ruin your perfect attendance record," I say, and reach for the cup she slides across. "You're messing with my espresso pride," she says. "One late and Koji makes me stand in the alley with a sign." "Then I'll be on time," I say. "Promise." She narrows her eyes and leans over the counter. "You promise because you want my smile, Detective Bass." "My coffee habit and your smile are both high on the list," I answer. She tucks a loose curl behind her ear and grins. "See you tonight. Don't bring murder to my door." "Only the kind that stays on paper," I tell her. "I'll be back." Her laugh follows me out the door before the morning light swallows the corner of Quin Café. The bullpen clock says seven-fifteen when I throw my jacket onto the back of my chair. Giles is already at his desk, sleeves rolled, pinched face lit by two monitors. "You're late for the morning meeting," he says without looking up. "I had coffee," I say. "Priority decision." "Coffee doesn't explain the three-hour delay on the Rivera file," he says. "We need arrests, not excuses." "Give me one hour with Francesca's report and the hotel footage," I say. "I'll lay out the profile." He glances at the wall clock like a judge checking the sentence calendar