Hunger seemed irreverent in their business. But tell that to her empty gut.
Jude Reeve must’ve heard it rumble because she asked, ‘When’d you last eat, boss?’
Inspector Rose Sturt squinted raw eyes at her colleague and shrugged. It was hours since she’d grabbed a pie, as her team caught this case back-to-back with wrapping up a nursing-home homicide.
‘Suspected as much.’ Reeve dropped a bag onto Sturt’s desk.
‘You’re the best, Jude.’
With a mock-bow, Reeve handed her a small bottle. ‘Because nobody delivers a salad roll and OJ like me?’
‘Because you think of it.’
As they chewed, Sturt stretched her spine and hooked the desk lamp closer to a photograph of Jennifer Denton and her children. Now that her homicide inquiry was in hand, she could catch up on Reeve’s background work on the
