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Anger is my most popular emotion. I feel it often. Multiple times a day. And not always for a specific reason. It’s just my go-to feeling because it’s easy. But I’ve never felt anger the way I feel it right now, after Raewyn told us that it was cops who were in that house.

Normally, I’d not believe a witness right off the bat. They lie all the time, especially to save their asses. But I know, with every fiber of my being, that she’s not lying. No wonder she ran and has refused to speak with us.

Whoever she saw in that house, they were cops. I believe her. And I want to know who the fuck they were and why they think it’s okay to kill someone.

What kind of shit was Theodore wrapped up in to get himself killed by cops? And what the hell are they doing to have to kill someone? I have so many questions. So many fucking questions, but now isn’t the time. Because this goes deep. It has to. I’ve been around long enough to know that this stuff is never simple. We have a lot of work ahead of us.

“I’m not saying I don’t believe you, because I do,” Pierce starts. “But how do you know they were cops?”

I know why he asks the question, and it shouldn’t make me angrier. He’s not questioning her because he doesn’t believe her; he’s just trying to get the facts. There are things we need to know, solid facts, if we’re going to move forward with this. Which we most certainly are. what we need to know if we’re going to go anywhere with this.

“They had badges,” she says.

“Do you know what they said?” I ask.

“No.”

“But you saw one of them today?” Pierce asks.

“Not exactly.”

We share a look.

“What do you mean not exactly? You called—”

“I never said I saw him. I said he was there, at the bakery,” she adds firmly. “I heard him.”

“So you recognized his voice?” Pierce asks.

“Yes.”

“At the house, there was more than one, though?” I ask.

“There were two.”

“Where were they in Theodore’s house?” I add. “When you saw them, what were they doing?”

“I hid under the bed in Tiger’s room because I heard someone coming. I saw them but they didn’t see me. They were in the living room, talking to one another. ”

“What were they saying?”

She shakes her head, staring at her teacup, trying to recall the memory.

“They were looking for something, but they didn’t say what. They dug through a few drawers, and one made a comment about not having time to look and that someone named Xavier was coming to handle things.”

Off the top of my head, I don’t know an Xavier we could look into. It’s unlikely it’s another cop. Bad cops usually work with criminals, not a ton of cops. Yes, there are sometimes more than one cop involved, like a pair of bad apples, but they need someone to pin things on when they go bad. Usually they’re people they’ve arrested or know will do dirty shit in exchange for not being arrested.

“Were they in uniform?” I ask.

“Suits. Their badges were on their belts, like yours are.”

So, not street cops. That really doesn’t sit well with me. The higher up, the deeper it goes and the more difficult it is to shut it down. That won’t stop us though

I turn my attention to Trinity. “Do you know the man she saw?”

“No, I’m sorry, but I don’t even know which customer it was. It was so busy, and I thought she’d gone into the back to restock pastries. After a while, I noticed she was gone, and I went to check on her. I couldn’t begin to remember who it was,” Trinity explains.

“Do you have cameras?” Pierce asks.