He pumped shampoo and began to lather it into her hair. ‘What are you doing?’ ‘Saving you time. What have you done here?’ She hunched her shoulders. ‘Nothing.’ ‘You have. You’ve been whacking at your hair again.’ ‘It was in my eyes.’ ‘Back here?’ He tugged. ‘Fascinating. Does the NYPSD know they have a cop with eyes in the back of her head? Has the CIA been notified?’ ‘I can do this myself.’ She pulled back, scrubbed vigorously at her hair while glaring at him. ‘Don’t tell Trina.’
