He pointed across the street to windows over a shop.
“My girl lives there,” he said, waving to her. She was standing in the window and waved back. “I stopped by to cuddle up with her before she heads out to the teacher’s memorial.”
Well, that explained that.
“My car isn’t far away. That’s how I knew where you guys were. I saw the rental in front of the café when I drove down the street to find a parking spot.”
Gene relaxed marginally.
He still had questions.
“Which is yours?” he asked.
Dannie was more than happy to tell him since he had nothing to hide.
“My vehicle hasn’t moved. I’m not the shooter.”
He saw the man’s ride, and it was the wrong color. Gene had caught a glimpse of the one that drove by, and it was a pale-colored sedan.
White.
Gold.
Silver.
The detective’s vehicle didn’t match. It was dark green, and a truck-like SUV.
He believed him.
“Trust me now?”
Gene was honest.
“No. I don’t trust anyone until I put the handcuffs on the killer. Then, everyone else around them gets my trust.”
He laughed.
“Paranoid much?”
Yes, yes, he was.
He was, after all, a Fed. They dealt with the worst of the worst, so being paranoid was to his advantage.
It was also a job requirement.
Only, he didn’t have to say anything. Ethan came out from the café with his bag, Gene’s, and a paper bag. Immediately, he handed the small bag to him.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“A cookie. You get cranky in a hospital, and you’re going to try and talk them out of putting that cast back on your wrist. Don’t, or I’m going to get angry and make you go back.”
He just laughed.
“I do love a cookie,” he said, winking at his man.
“I’ll take your laptop and bag back to the hotel. I’m going to need both to start runs.”
Ethan was watching the cop, and Gene knew why. They tended to think alike. There was no doubt that Ethan saw him talking to the man through the window.
