. He brought his gaze back to Vickie Bloomer. Her sapphire eyes never wavered. “Ms. Bloomer, I can’t believe what you’re telling me.”

“That makes us even detective, I cannot believe what you tell me about my daughter’s death”

“Let me get this straight. You left your husband and moved into the Parliament House so you can find your daughter’s killer. You want me to share any evidence we have with you. Is that correct?”

“You’ve got it,” she replied. Ignoring his sarcastic manner, her shapely bottom was firmly plunked in the chair across from him.

He rubbed his hand across his eyes. There were some parts of his job he didn’t like. Having to deal with distraught relatives of murder victims ranked high on that list. He sighed. “What makes you think there is any evidence? The coroners office ruled it self inflicted.”

“Come on, detective. Don’t you think I know why they ruled that way? A druggie is found dead of an overdose in a roach hotel. She’s been involved in a drug related homicide when her drug dealing friend killed her husband eight years ago. She’d been in and out of jail for prostitution, shoplifting, and dealing stolen merchandise. I know law enforcement personnel is stretched to the limit in Duval County and no one wants to waste time on a worthless druggie death. But, you’re forgetting one thing.”

“Oh, and what is that, Ms. Bloomer?” He leaned across the desk until their faces were only inches apart.
Mike knew there was a lot of truth in what she had said. He and Jack had argued over some of what they found at the scene, however, a good police office followed orders. Officially, the death was self inflicted.

“Your ‘worthless druggie’ was my little girl.” Her blue eyes bored into his brown ones, and it was the brown that looked away.