“Sir, this isn’t a clear-cut case of suicide,” she hoped that he would finally listen.
Sergeant Gill shrugged. “Wealthy people get depressed like everyone else, doll.”
“What about this shell casing? “ She held up the evidence bag. “There wasn’t a gun on Lionel Luthor’s body and there’s not one here. Maybe he got help?”
He placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “Officer Sawyer, you’ll never make it to lieutenant if you don’t learn how to let things go.” He squeezed. “Understand?”
She did. To make it to lieutenant, she would start by uncovering the criminals inside the force.