Mark Richard Zubro
St. Martin's Griffin
Paul Turner typed his name at the bottom of the Daily Log, his last act in the paperwork for their latest case. He let out a long breath.
Buck Fenwick tossed his pen on the pile of paper he'd been plowing through all morning.
"You done?" Fenwick asked.
Turner rubbed two fists over tired eyes and shoved himself away from his desk. "Yeah," he muttered. He glanced around the squad room. "Where is everybody?"
"They've been at lunch for hours. Come on." Fenwick's ever-expanding bulk necessitated regular feeding and he did not appreciate being