CHAPTER TWELVE
James knocked on the DCI’s office door and waited to be invited inside. His face felt taut because of the tension he experienced, and his heartbeat seemed a bit faster than usual.
“Come in,” McNamara barked, and James swallowed hard and then opened the door with the feeling of going to the gallows.
McNamara was a good boss, but not when something irked him. James had always disliked being on the wrong side of the road with the DCI. The man had a very sharp tongue, and the delivery of his speech made the DS feel like a green constable again.
“Oh, you have finally managed to get back to the station, I see,” McNamara said from the other side of the room, throwing a scowling glance at the Sergeant.
James sensed that the sarcasm in his boss’s tone of voice sounded tamer than
