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“Couldn’t be—he was with you night before last, wasn’t he?”
“Not all night.”
“We checked the time stamps. Wasn’t him.”
“So it could be completely unconnected, then.”
“Could be,” Hockley said, but he didn’t sound convinced. He opened the apartment door, and once he was in the hallway, turned around. “Do what you can. Stay in touch. And if things with Kayla don’t work out—” He grinned, sudden and bright. “Don’t even think about applying to the DEA. We don’t put up with cowboy bullshit.”
Jericho snorted. “Thanks for your support.”
Hockley gave a rough salute, and then he was gone.
Jericho closed the door behind him, then leaned against it. He’d contact Wade, sure. But he had a little digging of his own to do first.
