In came‘Huggy Bear’, as Greyson called him, and he was sporting bloody clothes but a spiffy new cast.
“Nice duds,” Ethan said, getting up to reach him. “Maybe don’t play in blood.”
He laughed.
“The nice nurses tried to take my things, but I like pockets, and not scrubs, so I sent the detective with a list and a credit card to buy us some things. Did you miss me?” he asked, thinking about how he had a box with rings in it, and that’s why he needed pockets.
He nodded.
“Yeah, I just got off the phone with Grey. He’s commandeering a morgue for us and sending techs to help us. He also told me to under no circumstance borrow a gun from the techs and give it to you. Ironically, he’s having one commissioned for me in case I lose my gun.”
Gene grinned.
“Oh, well, you shouldn’t do that,” he said. “Does he have body armor coming too? I like packing plates in the back and front when I know people are gunning for me.”
Ethan was well aware that was exactly the plan.
“Oh, bet on it. We’ll see if Jerry will give us some, or if the detective has spares.”
That was the first question he planned on asking him when he got there. He’d been so worried about getting back to Ethan, it slipped his mind.
“What about the bullet?” he asked.
Gene pulled it from his pocket. It had been right next the ring box he was holding onto for dear life.
In a bag, there was a mangled bullet—proof it went through the sign and into his cast.
“It’s a twenty-two, and from the make, it is from a long rifle.”
Immediately, Ethan cringed.
Holy shit.
Someone wasn’t playing.
“That’s a dangerous one. That gun is fairly accurate, can shoot multiple rounds fast, and puts big holes in things.”
Yeah, thus, the poor woman who died and the five shots in rapid fire.
Gene felt horrible about that.
“It sucks that we likely won’t be able to trace that bullet,” Gene said. “It’s common. Almost as common as the nine-millimeter. This is a big hunting area. I’d bet my britches that every redneck in the area has that gun in the cab of their truck in case they spot a moose or elk.”
Yeah, he would be right about that one.
“Well, at least we know what we’re up against,” Ethan offered. “The normal.”
Yeah, he could say that again.
Because he felt icky, Gene needed to get out of these things, after hiding that little black box where his partner wouldn’t see it.
Gene glanced over.
“I’m going to go shower,” he stated. “I feel gross with that poor woman’s blood on me.”
Ethan wasn’t shocked.
“Okay, babe.”
