“Congratulations, Detective Sergeant. Very nice job,” Clark said with apparent sincerity.

Rebecca inclined her head slightly.

“I’d like to know how you identified the suspects so quickly. Commendable.”

“You can read my report for the details.”

“I’m sure it will be quite elucidating.” He took the seat next to hers and nodded to Captain Henry.

“Agent Clark contacted me last night about the scope of your investigation, Sergeant. He said he was impressed.”

“I’m flattered,” Rebecca said sarcastically.

Clark turned in his seat to face Rebecca. “You made a dent in Zamora’s organization, and I’m willing to bet that you’ve got more leads cooking. We’re very interested at Justice in what you might be pursuing.”

“I don’t work for the Justice Department.”

“I lost a man, too, Sergeant.”

“And if my team had been allowed to work the evidence from the last arrest, we’d be closer to knowing who’s responsible.”

“But you’re still close, aren’t you?” he asked softly.

Rebecca said nothing.

“I’m not asking for joint jurisdiction,” Clark continued. “I’m asking for cooperation and a sharing of intelligence.”

Rebecca grimaced. “I think you’ve already proven that sharing is not high on your list.”

“Sergeant,” Henry said blandly, “I think that the Chief would look favorably upon the development of a major crime unit that interfaced with a federal unit. It’s got selling power.”

So that’s the deal breaker. If I want to keep the team together, I’m going to have to play ball with the feds. A muscle in Rebecca’s jaw tightened. “Watts gets promoted to detective third grade, and Mitchell gets her shield.”

“I think we can manage that, Lieutenant.”

Clark stood as did Rebecca. He held out his hand. “Let me be the first to congratulate you, Lieutenant. I’m sure we’ll be in touch soon.”

“I’m sure.” She shook the offered hand and turned to Henry. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Lieutenant.” He watched her walk out, pleased with the morning’s work.

When Rebecca stepped into the squad room, Watts jumped up and hurried over to her.

“Well? What’s the word?”

“Not here, Watts. Let’s take a ride.” She kept walking, waving her thanks to the frequent calls of congratulations from other detectives.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Watts puffed, “just tell me…are the rumors true? Is it Lieutenant now?”

“You always believe everything you hear, Watts?” Rebecca hit the door to the stairwell and started down. From behind her, she heard a long whistle and then a small hoot of pleasure that had her smiling despite herself.

“So where we going, Loo?” Watts hurried to catch up to her on the stairs.

Striding into the parking lot, she said, “We’re going to the hospital to see how Mitchell’s doing.” She pulled open the driver’s door of the Vette and slid in. As she started the engine, Watts dropped into the seat beside her. “Then we’re going to Sloan’s to brief the rest of the team.”

He caught his breath sharply. “The rest of the team? Officially?”

“Yep.” She gunned the Vette out of the parking lot and grinned. “We’re going to be on our own, more or less. HPC…high profile crimes.” She’d tell him the bad news about Clark after he’d had a chance to enjoy this a little.

“Oh man, that is sweet.” He fumbled in the inside pocket of his jacket for his cigarettes, a broad smile on his face.

“Yeah, it is,” Rebecca said softly, allowing herself a brief moment of pleasure as she imagined telling Catherine about the promotion. Then she glanced over at her partner, who was just about to strike a match. “Even D-threes don’t smoke in my ride, Watts.”

“Sure, Loo,” he said with satisfaction, pocketing his smokes. “You’re the boss.”

When an instant later he gaped at her and sputtered, “D-three?”, Detective Lieutenant Rebecca Frye merely smiled.

She was already thinking about the hunt to come.