Ericson was extremely cute, for a grown adult who also held a black belt in aikido, and had several marksmanship awards from Chicago PD.
She was a real professional, one who had fought and clawed her way up the ranks to become full lieutenant. She'd made enemies along the way, and one of them had seen to it that she was put in charge of Special Investigations soon after.
"Hello there, Ericson," I told her.
I took a swig of ale and said, "Long time, no see."
I tried to keep my voice even, but I'm pretty sure she heard the anger in it.
"Look, Ryan—"
"Did you read the editorial in the Tribune? The one criticizing you for wasting the city's money hiring a 'charlatan psychic named Ryan Banks'? I guess you must have, since I haven't heard from you since it came out."
She rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "I don't have time for this."
I ignored her.
