Rick Simon didn’t like how quiet things were. He knew the silence should be a good sign or at least not a bad one, but it set him on edge.
He was almost positive he and AJ had their mark, though for something so simple this guy had proven hard to pin down.
God knew they didn’t need this to go sideways on them any more than they did their other cases.
The bottom line was the quiet felt kind of like the calm before the storm to him.
He wasn’t even sure why he was unnerved, but something about this case had seemed off to him from the very start.
Not that he minded a change from routine cheating-spouse cases – they’d been in that whatever-pays-the-bills rut for far too long now – but this was … Rick couldn’t put his finger on it.
He supposed if he could, they wouldn’t be here. They still didn’t even have a name they could believe was real, no paper trail on this guy.
Not only was that hugely problematic,
it was peculiar their nameless perv was holed up in a skeevy motel way across town and wasn’t some neighborhood punk out for a thrill or a budding sexual predator.
He tried to muffle the unease, inching silently to the motel room door. Nothing about this was adding up.
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