Normally, Serena would be sitting across from him, ice blue eyes warmed by the Scotch and the shared elation of the win. Tonight, he sat alone in his office, bathed in the sallow yellow light of the desk lamp.
The glass curved into his grip like the handshake of an old friend, offering comfort. He should be happy. At least satisfied. He had put another murderer behind bars. He had done his job.
And yet, all he felt was the empty chill of her absence, as if a phantom sat in her chair, its disappointment palpable. He shivered and poured another drink, toasting the deserted room.
“One more such victory….”