“I should think so!” Ron looked up from the files he had been sorting through in the banker’s box underneath his desk.
“Here we go,” Mike muttered from behind his desk, rubbing his face with both hands before stretching his arms out in front of himself.
“I never said any of those things she said I did,” Ron stated emphatically, flipping the lid down on the box before kicking it back into place with the others under his desk.
“Nobody cares,” Mike sighed, dropping his head into his hands.
“A little sleepy, are we, Crumply-pants? Well, hold on to your hats, both of you, because I’ve got a detail for you.”
“I thought it was the job of your subordinate to hand out details to us peons,” Mike mumbled a little louder than he had intended.
“There is no rank in Homicide,” Amanda shot back. “An
