“He won’t like that.”
Yeah, well, he was aware.
Only, their ME opted to piss off the feds, and he was going to be cockblocked from his own morgue because of it. That was on him.
In fact, his partner had done the same thing.
Well, at least the men were consistent.
He continued.
“They need that forensics in order to work this case. Keep that to yourself, Leah. There are only a few people who know it’s happening.”
She gasped again.
“I wouldn’t say shit!”
He believed her, but the Feds were already at their last straw with the leaks.
“I know. It was just a side note. Anyway, you can help tomorrow. I got them to let you assist, but it wasn’t easy. Don’t piss them off! Tonight, they are going to do the last interview, at the pub, and then calling it a night.”
She was antsy.
“Already? It’s the middle of the day.”
He slowed her roll.
“Leah! We’ve all been up late, and it’s been a long day. The Fed was shot at, and he’s tired, too. Unless they have answers from the autopsies, there’s not much they can do but research and do follow-up work on the suspects. Chill out. That’s why they don’t want you helping. You’re up their asses trying to run their case. Everyone has a different process, but it doesn’t make it wrong.”
She tried to do what he asked.
The last thing she wanted was to be sidelined.
That.
Would.
Suck.
“Where are you now?”
He told her.
“We just interviewed the owners ofThe Tipsy Easel.They’re clean. While the memorial is going down at the school, they are going to talk to the owners of the pub and get some food. We’ll meet them tomorrow at the morgue.”
Honestly, she wanted to be out with her partner, but at least he’d managed to clear her a path back onto the team. The last thing she wanted was to be sitting at her place doing nothing when there was a case to work.
“Need some help researching?” she asked. “Because there’s no doubt in my mind they want help with the boring shit.”
He rolled his eyes.
She wanted to be involved, but then complained about the work that had to be done.
What the hell?
Instead of being confrontational, he chilled out. There was no point in butting heads with his partner. When the Feds left, he had to be here to work with her.
“Yeah, I’ll send you over the names of the owners of the painting place. Get them researched. I’m working on someone else,” he said, thinking about Randal, and how he couldn’t be killing people in his condo.
