Excerpt of Spirit Dances by C. E. Murphy

Excerpt: FRIDAY, MARCH 17, 8:34 A.M.

“Walker, Holliday, you’re up. Homicide in Ballard, probably
domestic violence. Be there yesterday.” A set of sedan keys
flew across the room at my head. I caught them painlessly,
only because I’d just come in the door and hadn’t yet taken
my gloves off. The guy who’d thrown them at me—our
lieutenant, Braxton, who was decent, hardworking, and who
never impinged on my consciousness for a single moment
beyond those I spent following his direct commands—jerked
his jaw at the door, indicating we should already be gone. I
did a quick dance of shedding my coat, shrugging on my duty
weapon—an item which, like Braxton, lay outside my realm of
active awareness except when I was actually at work—and
pulling the coat back on before my partner made it to the door.

Because my desk was three steps from the door, I got there
first, and that meant I won: I got to drive. After nine
months of that game, I wasn’t sure why we bothered, because
neither of us pretended Billy was the better driver. Not
that he was a bad driver, mind you. It’s just that it was
the only class at the academy I’d been too proud to come in
anything but first.

He caught up to me and muttered, “I hate domestic cases,” as
we headed out the door.