“I need you in my office for a minute, Sergeant,” he said, then he turned and walked down the hall. Eli followed, steeling himself. He was going to get transferred—he just knew it; he’d been thinking about it all weekend, trying to force himself to be okay with it. After the fund-raiser the night before, where he’d danced with Cacy, held her in his arms again, seen her gorgeous smile, and listened to her say words he’d needed to hear—that it wasn’t just a distraction, that she wanted him, too—he’d understood this would be painful. He wondered if Dec would give him a chance to say good-bye to her, or if he was going to ship him off to another station immediately. Dec gestured to a chair in the corner of his cramped office. “Have a seat, Eli.” Eli sat. Dec remained standing. His expression was somber. “I’ve talked to Len, Manny, and Gil. They said you had a few things to say about Cacy that night at Bart’s.
