“I’ll go home and change first,” he finally replied, looking up at her again. “Tell him I’ll be there in about an hour and a half.”

Madeline nodded and turned away, walking swiftly back to her car. She was no longer certain that she had gained an advantage in that encounter.

It was closer to two hours before Cruz showed up at the Southwest District headquarters, where he was stationed. He was ushered immediately into Captain Ritter’s office. He hesitated in the doorway in surprise. Already seated across from the captain was Madeline Casey. Cruz crossed the threshold and shut the door behind him.

Striding to the desk, he exchanged a handshake with the other man. “Captain.” Don Ritter had a long, narrow face with sagging jowls and deep-set eyes. He’d always reminded Cruz of a gloomy basset hound, but there was nothing wrong with the man’s mind. He was fully apprised of the details of his detectives’ caseloads, and little got by him.

“Detective Martinez.” Ritter motioned for him to take a seat next to Madeline. “Sorry to summon you in like this on your day off.”

“No problem.”

“I believe you met Detective Casey earlier.”

Cruz’s attention was once again diverted to the woman in the room, and grinned. “Detective Sergeant Madeline Casey. How nice to see you. Again.”

“Detective.” She nodded shortly. His dark hair was combed back and he’d replaced his earlier clothes with a pair of battered jeans, white shirt and cowboy boots. The jeans were obviously a favorite, well-worn and supple. The shirt was by no means new, but the stark contrast between it and his dark good looks was hard to ignore. The boots were the only incongruous aspect in the picture he made. In contrast to the worn clothes, they gleamed with polish. He looked only slightly more formally dressed than he had this morning, and no less dangerous.

Cruz dropped into the chair next to Madeline, keeping her in his line of vision. Her hair lacked the highlights it had glinted with in the sunlight, the fluorescent lights overhead turning it a pure dark red.