Excerpt:

The call came in at 6:21PM. Detective David Stanhope flicked the telephone on his desk an irritated glance. Didn’t it just figure. In fact it never failed. He’d just gotten off a double shift, filling in for a guy whose wife was having a baby. Even stayed late to finish off the paperwork before heading home for his own long weekend which consisted of a cold beer or six and the Cubs next loss.

His pen tapped rhythmically on the stack of papers as he watched the white light on the phone flash repeatedly, willing it to stop before it hit four. David had a rule about that. Never let a phone ring more than four times. Always four, but never five. In fact, David had a rule about a lot of things, much to his partner’s amusement and irritation.

Amelia Best had known the Stanhope family for years - had worked for them when she was a teenager in fact - and she had been David’s partner in the 11th district precinct now going on six years. She was used to his rules, and he was used to her giving him a hard time about them. Theirs was one of those relationships that came from long familiarity, and it worked well for them. Mostly.

As the light flickered for the third time, David was torn. Should he let it go? Someone else could handle it. He was off duty. Still he stared and tapped his pen, his angled jaw becoming more and more tense as the light flashed for a forth time. If someone really wanted to talk, they’d wait four rings. If they kept on through five, it usually wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have anyway. But this was work, and there was no one more serious about his job than Detective David Stanhope. Everyone said so.

“Fuck it.” He dropped the pen and reached for the receiver just as the light went dead. Relief and irritation washed over him as he leaned back in the wooden office chair, arms stretched high above his head trying to loosen the tense muscles in his wide shoulders. Across the room his eyes met a dancing green pair, and a sheepish grin played on his lips.

“Dodged another bullet there, Lace.” He tipped his head to indicate the now unlit telephone.

Lacey Day’s smirk was one of her best features, but David would have never told her so. Instead he did his best to taunt it out of her every chance he got. And he made sure he got a lot. She’d only been with the 11th for about a month now, but her cocky attitude along with her track record had her fitting right in, and David liked her. Hell, what wasn’t to like. The girl had her shit together, and she was no hardship to look at either.

“Yeah. Some fancy footwork there, detective.”

“Stanhope! Need to see you in my office.” Bob Lundquist’s head popped around the corner, and from the look on the chief’s face, David had a sinking feeling that beer was going to have to wait awhile longer.

“Or not.” Lacey laughed and waved on her way out. “Good luck with that.” A tip of her head indicated the chief’s back. “See ya on the other side.” And she swayed through the double glass doors that separated the detectives from the rest of the precinct.

“Yeah.” The word was mumbled into the bottom of a mostly empty cup of cold coffee. “See ya.”