He trudged into her office and winced when she slammed the door shut behind him. The swig he took of his Starbucks’ Caramel Macchiato tasted like ash in his mouth. What the hell had he done thistime?
Sorensen’s heels clipped on the tile floor as she circled him. “Sit,” she said.
Will obeyed, dropping into one of two chairs in front of her desk. She sank into the executive leather chair behind the desk, opposite him, and snatched up a file from the teetering pile on her inbox. He recognized Janine’s handwriting on the folder’s tab—Thomason, Corey, followed by Tuesday’s date.
Shit.
Before Will could try to explain, Sorensen waved the file at him. “Who assigned you to this case?”
“Everyone else was at lunch,” Will explained. “I just took the report.”
Sorensen flipped open the folder to frown at the paper inside. “You’re listed as the officer in charge. Who authorized this?”
“No one else was here,” Will tried again.