Gene made the introductions.
“Agent Ethan Blackhawk,” he said, pointing at his partner, “and I’m Gene Cantrell. What do we have?” he asked.
Detective Yandriel Potter clued him in, as his partner, Luis Patron, stood beside him.
“We got a call from the man’s wife, and she was screaming about him not responding in the front yard. When EMTs got here, they thought he was passed out, but as they got closer, they saw the markings, and he was cold to the touch.”
Oh, goodie.
The markings.
Now, Gene was making notes, and said nothing. He didn’t want to let on what he knew. If they were being watched, then it was time to be lowkey.
Their well-being might depend on it.
“Is that the widow?” he asked, pointing at the Hispanic woman waving her arms wildly as she was on the phone with someone.
Both men laughed.
“Yeah, good luck,” Luis said. “How did you guys get unlucky and catch this case. You’re not from around here.”
Yeah, tell them about it.
“Our boss sent us in,” he said, saying nothing else.
Only, Luis had more to say.
“Aaron was my best friend. We grew up together. We went to school together, and we became cops together. I want whoever hurt him handled. In fact, I want to help with your case.”
Gene lifted a brow.
First, that wasn’t happening. Gene didn’t work with cops—other than Corbin.
Why?
Look how that worked out?
Yeah, he loved the Crotch Goblin, but he didn’t need to spoon-feed a second detective. He was already doing that with Corbin.
Secondly, he wasn’t sure of the implications.
“If by‘handled’, you mean arrested and brought in for a trial, yeah, this person will be‘handled’.”
The man was bright red.
Instead of exacerbating it, Gene caught a glimpse of backup heading his way.
God bless Greyson.
He was there, and he had an agent with him. It was clear that the second shift had arrived to the office, since it was Agent Mayfield.
At least there would be FBI witnesses for when the cop said something stupid, and Gene had to put his ass in its place.
“What do you have so far?” Detective Patron asked, wanting an update.
Gene wasn’t sharing shit with the cops.
Why?
