He stumbled back before hurrying out of the interrogation room. Jo faced the mirror. “Seriously, some-damn-body better get me coffee, or it’s gonna be hell when I get out of here!”
When the door was flung open, Jo thought her prayers were answered until the rookie returned. Luckily, he was followed by FBI Barbie, but it was the second FBI agent that made Jo wish she’d just broken the observation mirror and crawled through it.
“Oh Christ, tell me you are not here to question me, Redden. Because without my coffee I’m liable to strangle you on general principle.” She pointed to the carefully coifed female agent who still looked as fresh as when she’d picked Jo up hours ago. “At least FBI Barbie came with you in case you needed backup.”
Redden pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hello to you too, Detective Rayburn.”
“It’s Lieutenant.”
“I am not FBI Barbie. I have a name—”
Jo waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah, and if you had stopped for coffee and a burger for dinner, I might have remembered it. But now I can’t be bothered.”
Redden’s perfect brow arched. It surprised her that his bland, plastic face could make that expression. “A bit young to be a lieutenant.”
The FBI Barbie snickered as she took a chair opposite Jo.
Jo’s lip curled. “A bit old to get two different profiles wrong. And to think, that’s all you supposedly do with the FBI, right?”
The female agent cleared her throat. “Okay you two, put them away.” Cool onyx eyes met Jo’s. “We need you to walk us through what you did from four yesterday afternoon until I came and picked you up this afternoon.”
Jo was glad she wouldn’t be on nights permanently because it played havoc with her internal clock. It felt like she should be asleep. Thank God Meyers and Sims handled the night shift. Meyers because his wife, Nancy, was a nurse who preferred the night shift and Sims because he was a night owl. Instead, a quick glance at FBI Barbie’s watch showed it was just after seven in the evening. They had sweated her for three hours. Assholes. How could she be tired? But the drab walls and silence became boring after so many hours spent doing nothing.
She wouldn’t have lasted if she’d been given the night shift with the promotion. Never to see Rhys except in passing was unacceptable and the one thing that would have made her leave the force.
“Rayburn!” Captain Walker stated next to her ear.
She jumped at the loud noise. “Sorry, captain.” Looking around, she grinned. “Fife’s gone?”
This was what happened when she hadn’t had caffeine, her mind was like a hamster in one of those plastic balls running all over the place. Her gaze met the captain’s composed expression. Late into the evening and the man was still in a crisp suit. The dark gray striking against his chocolate-toned skin.
“Lord help us Rayburn, you need to pull yourself together and answer these agents’ questions. I’ve already sent Krane to pick you two up some dinner and coffee.” Exasperation rang clear in Captain Walker’s expression.
“Have I told you how much I really like you, Captain Walker?”
“Great. Questions and then you can tell anyone you want until I piss you off again.” He stalked from the room snapping the door closed behind him.
Sighing, Jo faced the two agents. “What’re your questions?”
“We need you to walk us through until I picked you up,” FBI Barbie said.
Jo racked her brain but drew a blank on the woman’s name. “Yesterday?”
The agent nodded.
“I woke up about four. Sullivan picked me up as Rian and Lisa came home from GlenCare. Then we grabbed dinner and headed downtown—”
Jo replayed each of the events. The rain-soaked street was slick but the hookers handled it like pros, strutting down the sidewalk in the dead of night. Corner boys watching the women and answering their customers’ demand for drugs. Birmingham at night was a whole different world than during the day. Only certain areas, but Jo and Sullivan knew them all as did their brothers and sisters in blue. Which streets were safe, which held the homeless. And which streets held the lowlifes and those just trying to make a living any way they could.
“Downtown? Not the precinct? And in Sullivan’s car, not yours?”
“No, not the precinct. Captain Walker assigned us to help find a homeless guy who’s been attacking people on Southside. Usually he beat up the people, which is why it was another department’s case, but a few days ago he escalated before they could catch him—”
“He hurt anyone?” the agent asked.
“Yeah, he stabbed a man. The victim lived, but now several departments are working together to bring the vagrant in and get him some help. So Sullivan and I hit up some of our CIs and a few hookers we knew. As for my car, it’s in the shop being serviced.”
“After dinner . . . ” Redden made a hand motion for Jo to continue.
Jo refrained from rolling her eyes. “After dinner, Sullivan and I hit the streets and about the fifth hooker we talked to, well, her pimp got pissed, and tried to cut Sullivan. I jumped on the pimp, and we had patrol pick him up while we finished our rounds.”
“You jumped on him? Why didn’t Krane handle the guy?” FBI Barbie asked.
“Because Sullivan’s in his forties. Almost as old as Redden, and he doesn’t need to toss his back out. If that happens, I get assigned a temporary partner for the streets, and I don’t do well with temporary partners.”
“What does that mean? You ‘don’t do well with temporary partners.’”
Jo narrowed her gaze on the female agent. “It means they annoy me, kind of like you’re doing. Only with them, I stop and make them call someone else to pick them
