“That’s the price you pay when you want to work with us. Now, chop-chop, we have interviews to do,” Gene stated.
Well, shit.
It appeared he was on condom duty. Oh, if his partner did burn them to the media, he was holding her personally responsible for it. Now, he was being punished.
His face said it all.
“Imagine the crap job we’d give you if we found out you burned us after we trusted you.”
He could only imagine.
Still, he was to the point.
“Well, I wouldn’t screw you guys over and leak to the media,” he offered. “I don’t do fellow cops dirty like that.”
Oh, they hoped not.
Because someone did, and if the killer knew their plans, that was a problem. The killer had already shot at them once.
Who knew what was next?
Certainly not them.
And that was a problem.
Chapter Seventeen
Randal Crest’s
Home
Saturday Afternoon
Finding the man’s home was easy, since he lived in the middle of town, in a historic building. It was a hop, skip, and a jump away from where he worked at the bank as a financial advisor.
The place was nice, and it even had a doorman when you arrived.
After flashing badges, they were directed to the elevators and headed up to the seventh floor.
Someone liked nice things, and that was evident by the whole building.
“I love a condo,” Dannie said. “I have an apartment close to work, but I’d love to be high up and get a view of the city.”
It was kind of amusing sinceDamascuswas hardly a city. It was more like a town.
Still, they understood.
They enjoyed where they lived in Philadelphia. Having that kind of a view was always nice.
“We have a condo,” Gene admitted as they rode the elevator up to Randal’s personal space.
The man looked over.
“You live together, too?” he asked.
Gene nodded.
“Yep. We’ve lived together since we first got together,” he admitted, smiling over at his man.
