Cold Cases and Bitter Enemies by J.M. Dabney

An unknown enemy wanted to take everything from us.

Graves:
I’d spent all my forty-plus years paying for mistakes when I’d simply been human. Living in the shadow of my friend’s happiness grew harder every day. I didn’t mind being the odd one out. I didn’t mind being considered the unlovable strait-laced-ish one to their mayhem. Acceptance after a lifetime of not measuring up was nice. I’d found my rhythm and my place among the weirdness of my unit. That was until Marcel Douglas, the new ego-maniac in Homicide, decided he had to pick apart every case I’d left behind.

Douglas:
Leaving Chicago hadn’t been in my plans, but my daughter needed me. I’d do anything to make her happy. When her mother was transferred overseas, I’d moved so my daughter could stay with her friends—the place she’d come to love. Being at the bottom of the hierarchy and earning respect didn’t sit right with my pride. I wasn’t afraid to admit that. And I’d made one hell of an enemy. Graves and his Cold Case Unit frustrated me, and I didn’t understand their methods. A series of body dumps brought me back to Graves for help, but he wasn’t feeling charitable.

We’d thought we were our biggest and bitterest enemies until the threats came. Could we work together before the man gunning for us could finish the job?