Blood dripped steadily from the back of the car, pooling beneath the trunk. Brandon had seen enough in his years on the job to know exactly what that meant.
He slipped on a pair of gloves before popping the trunk open.
The lid rose slowly, and the first thing Brandon saw was a pair of legs, heavy combat boots laced tight. Then the body came into view.
Theo’s eyes went wide, his pupils constricting. He hadn’t seen the man’s face, but just from the build and the clothes, he could tell this was a European.
Even Brandon, who’d handled his share of cases, felt a jolt. Seriously? Someone really drove a dead body right up to the station?
He looked over at Theo. “Mr. Newton, I’m going to have to ask you to come with us and answer some questions.”
A cold shiver ran down Theo’s neck. He gave a stiff nod.
“What’s going on here?” someone called out.
“That guy isn’t—” another officer started, but before he could finish, a colleague walking by stopped, surprised. He pulled out his phone, swiped open his photo album, and stared at the body, then at the photo.
His face drained of color. He handed the phone to Brandon. “Someone reported this guy missing about an hour ago. Gave us this picture. Said he might’ve been taken by enemies.”
Brandon looked at the phone, then back at Theo, his gaze sharp.
“Mr. Newton, let’s head inside.”
“I need to make a call first,” Theo said.
Brandon just nodded, waving him on.
Theo dialed up Howard, giving him a quick rundown of what happened.
Howard was quiet for a moment on the other end. He already knew about what went down with Jackson the night before. That was supposed to be step one—take out Patricia’s right-hand man and make things easier. With Jackson out of the way, Patricia would have fewer cards to play.


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