July 11
Who the heck is Ted Klein?
I've never worked with him.
I've never even heard of him.
So why did they suddenly send him over to my precinct to head-up my investigation? ("Just to make sure there are no oversights on such a high-profile case," they said.)
And why do I suddenly have the sinking feeling that my door isn't going to say Interim Chief Vick for much longer?
Chief Ted Klein…it doesn't even sound right. Everyone knows you don't put three monosyllabic names right next to each other. You have to throw in at least one polysyllabic name, just to break things up.
At least, that's what all the baby name books say.
Of course, if he goes with Chief Theodore Klein…
Nope. Chief Karen Vick still sounds better.
Heck, even Interim Chief Karen Vick sounds better. At least it isn't monosyllabic.
Stupid Y-chromosome.
July 12
He is either the most thorough investigator I have ever seen, or he thinks I am a complete moron.
Or he's checking everything out looking for something I missed to give them cause to let me go so he can step in and be the hero.
Whatever it is, Future Chief Monosyllable spent all day going over the crime scene with a fine-tooth comb.
And he practically moved into my office. He even moved my pregnancy chair.
That was a mistake.
He's only been here for three days.
Three days!
And the entire precinct is already scared of the guy. No one made a move on the case today without running it by him.
Except Carlton.
When the forensics report came back, he gave me a copy first.
"Aren't you going to give it to Klein?" I almost snapped, maybe taking everything out on him.
Just a little.
He just shrugged.
"Eventually."
July 13
Rock, paper, scissors is not a good way to decide who gets to name a baby, as it turns out.
I still say a rock can beat a piece of paper.
It's a rock.
And a piece of paper.
I told Bill I'd chuck both at his head and see which did more damage.
He admitted the rock would win that one.
We need a Plan B.