Sal was talking to the lead detective by the time I reached the small group. I listened for a few minutes as Sal explained what had occurred and what Skip had told us about the perps we'd taken into custody.
I narrowed my eyes when the detective spouted off his anger when Sal mentioned sending someone for Travers' belongings. Why was he so upset? Why did he care? It was just a case.
Wasn't it?
I glanced at the uniformed officers hanging around. They weren't doing anything that made them stand out, not like the detective. He was making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Something about his scalding anger just felt off to me, but damned if I could figure it out.
I glanced at Clarke. When his eyes met mine, I gestured with my head to a spot on the other side of the room. Clarke gave me a small nod and then started in that direction.
"What's up?" Clarke asked as soon as I reached him.
"How well do you know this detective?" I'd seen him a few times, but I'd never spoken to him. That was Sal and Clarke's area, as they were the two men in charge of our elite SWAT unit. I was just a worker bee.
"Not well. He's been the lead detective on a few of our cases. Why?"
"Does he always get so worked up over a case?"
Clarke snorted. "It's not the case. He hates SWAT."
My eyebrows lifted. "We're why his panties are in a twist?"
And here I thought it was the case.
"He's an ass, but he's pretty harmless. He usually screams and shouts at Sal, trying to prove he has a bigger dick, then Sal whips his out and proves him wrong, and the guy goes away with his shrimp dick tucked between his legs."
"Oh, he sounds delightful."
Clarke shrugged. "I'd steer clear of him if you can manage it. He'll just make you want to wrap your fingers around his throat."
"Why does he hate SWAT so much?"
"He couldn't pass the psych eval to make SWAT, so he became a detective instead. He's been an ass ever since."
Not everyone was cut out for SWAT. It took a strong personality, rigorous training, and more than two brain cells to rub together to be a SWAT officer. A good dose of common sense didn't hurt either.
I stiffened and clenched my jaw when the detective walked over to talk to Skip. I watched them carefully, ready to jump in if the detective stepped one foot out of line. Skip must not have been too impressed with the man either, because, after a moment, he frowned up at the guy.
I moved to step in, but Clarke grabbed my arm.
"You don't want to do that," he warned. "Detective Burnett might be an ass, but you really don't want to interfere. Not only is it his investigation now but he'll put you on his naughty list and then you'll never be able to deal with him again. The man can hold a grudge for years."
Clarke nodded his head toward where Skip was sitting. "Let Sal handle it. He's already on Burnett's naughty list."
I raised an eyebrow. "How'd he get on the naughty list?"
And just what did it mean to be on the naughty list?
"They went through the academy at the same time. Sal got on the SWAT team. Burnett did not. He's held that against Sal ever since, even though Sal had nothing to do with him failing the psych eval."
I forced myself to stay where I was instead of storming over and ripping Burnett's head off. Skip had just been through something traumatic. He didn't need to deal with this guy's dick-measuring contest.
"Hey, man," Clarke said, "the doc is going to be okay. He's probably used to dealing with assholes like Burnett."
That was probably true, but still...
"He just had a gun pointed at his head." I tried to keep the snarl out of my voice when I replied, but when Clarke frowned, I didn't think I'd been very successful. "He doesn't need to deal with this moron right now."
I was sure of it.
