Here's more of "Rusty Cage", wherein our narrator, Maggie, ponders being in the boy's club:
"Were I a man, I'd get a friendly handshake, a slap on the shoulder. Hell, after two years on homicides I'd probably have a nickname. Red. Or Junior. Youth and blazing Irish hair were easy pickings for cops."
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Sadly, I didn't do a whole hell of a
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