Inger Wolf

Lisa had requested – had earned – a transfer to Homicide. She’d wanted out of her area of expertise, IT work that included cases involving pedophiles and child porn on the net. But knowing that Trokic would be heading up the investigation dampened her enthusiasm considerably. Their paths had crossed on cases a few times, and somehow, though he tried to be friendly, he always managed to make her feel like a trainee who was in the way. She didn’t feel that the five years difference in their ages, or for that matter, his experience, justified his attitude. She’d seen just as much shit as he had, if that’s what it came down to. Just a different type of shit. His Croatian roots, and the fact that he lived alone and never talked about anything other than work didn’t help to understand him. In short, as things stood now, he was low on the list of her favorite colleague.