Isabel pushed back from her chair and followed, weaving through the lingering officers as they dispersed. She caught upjust as Victoria reached her office door, her hand already on the handle.
“You got a minute, Captain?”
Victoria didn’t sigh, but Isabel could tell shewantedto. She turned just enough to fix Isabel with an unimpressed look, one brow arched. “You have more to say, Detective Torres?”
Isabel crossed her arms, rocking back on her heels. “I do.”
Victoria exhaled, opening the door and stepping inside, leaving it open just enough for Isabel to take that as permission to follow.
The office was as meticulous as Isabel had expected—sleek furniture, carefully arranged files, not a single thing out of place. A stark contrast to the low hum of frustration Isabel could feel rolling off Victoria.
Victoria rounded her desk but didn’t sit. Instead, she placed her hands against the polished wood surface, fingers splayed, and leveled Isabel with a look that was all authority. “Go on.”
Isabel tilted her head slightly, taking in the tension in Victoria’s posture—the rigid set of her shoulders, the way her jaw tightened ever so slightly. She was still irritated from the meeting.
Good. That made two of them.
“I want to go interview the gala staff,” Isabel said, keeping her voice even. “Starting with the caterer and the servers. And I want you to come with me.”
Victoria’s brows lifted just a fraction. “You think I need to hold your hand through an interrogation?”
“Not at all,” Isabel said smoothly. “I think you need to see what I see.”
Victoria’s expression didn’t change, but something in the air between them did. The shift was subtle—just a flicker of awareness, a beat of silence that stretched too long.
Isabel had been around enough strong-willed women to recognize the signs. Victoria wasn’t just annoyed with her; she wasstudyingher. Measuring. Calculating whether Isabel was worth the effort of engaging.
She took a slow step forward, watching the way Victoria held her ground, not moving back. “I get that you think I’m looking in the wrong places. That I don’t know this city like you do.”
Isabel’s voice dropped slightly, the challenge evident. “But what if I’m onto something?”
Victoria’s gaze was sharp, locked onto hers like a blade pressed just shy of skin.
“You’re confident,” she said at last.
Isabel smirked. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
Victoria’s lips twitched—almost a smile, but not quite. “Fine.” She straightened, grabbing her blazer off the chair. “Let’s go see if you’re wasting my time.”
Isabel’s smirk deepened. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
The tension between them crackled like a live wire as they stepped out of the office.
This was going to befun.
Isabel walked behind the captain as they exited the precinct, watching every sharp step and stiff-backed turn until the bright sun blinded her briefly. The crisp morning air from earlier was now humid and inching towards sweltering with each passing hour. Isabel pulled out her aviator sunnies, adjusting her eyes to the glare bouncing off all the car windows in front of her.
Victoria stood facing her on the edge of the sidewalk, arms crossed in front of her. She arched a brow. “Where’s your car?”
Isabel hesitated just a second too long.
Victoria’s smirk was instant. “Torres.”
Isabel sighed, slumping against the nearest wall. “It…decided this morning wasn’t worth showing up for.”
Victoria hummed, amused. “Ah. This that car trouble you mentioned?”
“Yeah, well, when you drive a car that’s older than some of the rookies at the precinct, things happen,” Isabel muttered. “Not everyone’s riding around in a department-issued luxury vehicle.”
