Detective Pezzimente went there.
“The good news is that the ME did complete them, but the bad news is he’s not here.”
Both Feds stared at them.
“More good news,” Dannie said. “He gave me the results,” he added.
Gene was getting pissed.
The man had made them wait, and they’d played by his rules, only to find he changed the rules?
Oh.
Hell.
No.
You didn’t jerk the FBI around while they were actively on a case.
“Are you shitting us? Say this is a joke. Is it April Fools?” he asked, rhetorically.
Ethan said nothing.
He was worried that Gene was going to stroke out. This could very well be the straw that broke the stressed-out camel’s back. It had been a rough week for him.
For both of them.
Seeing and hearing the irritation, the male detective tried to soothe the savage beast.
“This isn’t about anything other than the fact that he didn’t want to deal with the FBI, in general, and that he pulled an all-nighter and was tired. He went home an hour ago.”
Ethan lifted a brow.
“Seriously?”
The male cop nodded, and the female cop—wisely—said nothing.
“I see. Can I have them?” Blackhawk asked.
The man handed them over.
“How about we go into the conference room off of Homicide, and we can go over them?” Dannie asked.
It was cold out there, but there was no need to go to a room to discuss it. This had made up his mind on whether he’d accept their help or not.
Spoiler, they weren’t.
Yeah, no.
This town was on his last goddamn nerve. This was the final kick to the balls inDamascus.
“I’m good. I’ll read them here,” he admitted, doing just that.
Ethan began flipping through them, and when he’d scanned for the most important information, he shared it with Gene.
“TOD for all three of them was Thursday Night. He gave us an approximate TOD. Between nine and two in the morning for all three of them.”
Gene was curious.
