Improbable Cause
“Al and I had been snookered, plain and simple. Without exchanging a word, we walked back to our car, got in, and drove away. It wasn’t something either one of us wanted to discuss or write down in a report or even remember. It was the oldest trick in the book, and a couple of homicide squad veterans had no excuse for being taken in by it.
“I guess you don’t want to call Sergeant Watkins and put out an APB on the lady.” Big Al’s comment was laced with sarcasm.
“We’ll just let it pass,” I said.
“We sure as hell will,” he agreed.
If word of the incident leaked out, I knew we’d be the laughingstock of the department, enduring weeks of pointed ribbing from all the other detectives on the fifth floor of the Public Safety Building. Neither one of us was tough enough for that. No way Jose!
We drove up and down the streets of the neighborhood, trying to spot Rachel Miller, but there was no sign of her.
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