Something had gone on around that man, and Gene was willing to bet money on it.
The location of the body dumps, and the restaurant were bugging the hell out of him.
As for their baby detective, well, Corbin had a knack of getting his ass into trouble. That was the LAST thing they needed him to do again.
Riding to the rescue was getting exhausting.
“I’m worried,” Gene said out of the blue.
That had Ethan’s attention.
“Me too. We should call him,” Ethan said, knowing where that was going.
They tended to think alike.
“I don’t know how I feel about him out and about without backup. This case is giving me that feeling like whoever picks itup is going to have problems. It’s best if it’s us. We’re safe as a team, but Corbin doesn’t always see the blindside coming.”
Gene had been thinking the same thing because it was the truth.
Corbin was a good cop, but they didn’t call him baby detective because of his young face.
It was his blindness toward what was coming. He was still green, and not able to navigate the obstacles of investigation.
You learned fast as a Fed.
Or.
You.
Died.
“Yeah, call him. Will isn’t exactly backup. Oh, he’ll wrangle the crazy, but he can’t stop a bullet. Then again, none of us can.”
And that was making Gene twitchy too. The last thing he wanted was to see Ethan hurt, or to get shot himself.
That, too, was exhausting.
Because he agreed with Gene, Ethan pulled out his phone, and he dialed the man as they stood outside the FBI morgue. It was basically a tiny space that they’d made up for an ME, so they could have their own facility.
How did they know?
It was that damn small.
Regular FBI morgues were so much bigger, and this one screamed‘last minute decision’.
On the third ring, Corbin answered the phone.
“Hey,” he said. “What’s up? Need me to talk to someone else?”
Ethan put it on speaker.
Gene was going to want to boss Corbin around. There was no doubt there. They were still protecting him despite what the man thought about being ready.
He.
Was.
Not.
