“Okay, so maybe the profiler thing isn’t bullshit,” he admitted.
Gene was curious.
“So why don’t you? You know a hell of a lot about us. Share, Detective.”
Dannie did.
“I’ve been burned before, and I want to make sure one hundred percent that she’s the one. I’m moving slow. We’ve only dated for the last five months. Steph is not my normal type,” he admitted. “She’s…wholesome. I’m a cop. I see some shit, so as you can imagine…”
Oh, they got it.
It took a special someone to marry a cop or have a relationship with them.
It wasn’t easy.
“She has a routine, and I don’t. Cops don’t often marry teachers. We marry nurses, we marry other cops, and then we divorce them.”
Yeah, that was the truth.
As the elevator door opened, they stepped out.
“There’s nothing wrong with making sure,” Gene said, as they headed toward the man’s condo.
That’s what Dannie thought, and why he was being cautious. He wanted to get married once, and only once.
At the man’s door, they knocked, and they could hear music coming from inside. When the door was opened, the man who matched the driver’s license appeared.
He was drinking.
And not alone.
“Yes?” he asked, holding a martini in his one hand, as a redhead was sitting at the counter behind him in his kitchen.
“Randal Crest?” Gene asked as they all pulled their badges.
He lifted a brow.
“Is my music too loud?”
Gene went there.
Oh, it was crap music, and it was clear he was trying to get into a particular woman’s pants, but they were Feds.
Not beat cops.
“No, but we need to speak to you about your ex, Ivey. She was found dead.”
That was all the redhead had to hear. She put her martini down and grabbed her coat. She flew past them so fast that Randal didn’t even get to say a word.
“Oops. I guess she didn’t want to be tied up in a murder investigation,” Detective Pezzimente said.
Randal cursed.
“What the fuck?” he asked. “She was just about ready to sleep with me!”
That was what he was worried about?
Not the part where they said his ex was dead?
