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“Who’s CID head at Hunter?” “Colonel Brenda Tringali, Third MP Group,”
The sheriff for that county is Emma Williams.
Special Agent Connie York standing next to a parked silver Ford Fusion, the rental vehicle of choice for government travelers. She has on a simple black suit-jacket-and-slacks outfit, with a plain white buttoned blouse, and I have a quick, inappropriate observation that I’ve never seen her in a dress. That’s the atavistic, chauvinist part of me, which thankfully is almost always overruled by the competent leadership part of me that recognizes her skills as a CID investigator.
Connie looks at a watch encircling her tanned wrist with a thin gold band. I think I can make out delicate blond hairs there.
eyes and mouth open in surprise,
and the look on her face isn’t that of surprise but of terror. The right side of her head is a gaping, bloody hole.
Generally not possible but makes a lazily added clue
“I’ll work it, don’t worry. We’ll get it wrapped up soon. I promise.”
“You’re a goddamn slippery one, aren’t you?”
she can’t take her eyes off her handsome and struggling boss, limping like he has the entire hopes and fears of the squad riding on his shoulders.
There’s one American up there, a guy named—” “Kurtz,” I interrupt.
Heart of darkness reference
From what I’ve heard, she’s being kept in the Sullivan County jail, in the general population.
Not realistic as a former police officer but who needs realistic?
