one of his last stops before we head over to see if Dr. Carpenter has finished preliminaries."
"Anyone looking good for this?"
"Not a damn one."
"Sir, this is Redman. Sebastian Treyson is sending over a compilation of people who he believes may have it in for him."
"Fuck me, this couldn't be a simple open and shut case, could it? All right. What do you need from me?"
"We'll need another team to run down those leads when they come in." He glanced at Kallie who nodded in agreement. "I asked Brody to put feelers out for the McLaren and once we are done talking to Dr. Carpenter, we're heading back to work through the phone dump tech should be bringing over."
"It's here. Tech delivered it about a half hour ago. Pops called up to let me know he was done logging it in."
"Roger that." He hung up the phone and turned onto Halstead.
"You requested the info from the phone in paper form?"
"Yes, yes I did." He glanced at her and winked.
"Okay, Boomer, may I ask why you didn't just have them send it to you electronically?"
"No, not a Boomer, I'm definitely a Millennial, but one with experience. Electronic evidence can be deleted."
Kallie turned to him, her coffee cup halfway to her lips. "You think someone would tamper with evidence?"
He cleared his throat and admitted, "My old man took over from a long legacy of good ole boys. The stink of their corruption ran deep. This is a high-profile case. I'm not taking any chances."
Kallie pointed to a building as they passed. "Four thousand block."
He nodded and maneuvered into the right-hand lane of the four lanes heading East.
"Dirty cops..." She shook her head.
"Police officers are human. Sure, we screen, and we test, but at the end of the day, we are a microcosm of society, and quite frankly, sometimes our society sucks. The only thing we can do is be the best fucking cops we can be."
"There are thousands of us."
"And the few that fuck up, who are aggressive, biased, abusive, they make us all look bad."
"So why do we do it?" Kallie pointed to an empty parking slot just beyond the dry cleaner’s storefront.
"I don't know what your reason is, but I protect and serve because I believe people should be able to live without fear, and someone needs to speak for the victims." He put the car into park after a quick parallel park.
"Exactly. Yeah, I missed it. This. When I was working for Guardian. I missed making a difference for a community. Guardian is exceptional at what they do, don't get me wrong, but they are so many levels removed from this." Her eyes scanned the street.
"Well, we are in the thick of it." He glanced down the busy city street. "Why would Treyson come all the way over here to drop off laundry?"
"Is it close to where one of the lovers lives?" Kallie thumbed back through her notebook looking for addresses.
"It's nearer Garrett's and Chloe's. Not as close to Ava’s." He turned off the car. "Ready?"
"Yep."
They made their way into the Plaid Iron and stood at the back of the lobby. A line several people deep waited at the counter. A pretty redhead, an arm and one ankle in a cast, knee propped up on a scooter, rolled to counter. "Here you go, Mr. Robinson. I'm sorry about the wait." She fished the hanger off a small bar someone had installed on the side of the scooter. It looked flimsy, but seemed to do the trick.
"No worries, Cynthia. Can't you take some time off? You're looking tired." The older gentleman took the jacket she handed him.
"Oh, no. I'm fine. Just really clumsy."
The older man shook his head. "Honey, no one is that clumsy."
Warning bells clamored in Brock's brain. He stared harder at the woman–black slashes under her eyes, fat lip, bruised cheek. Looked like someone had used the small woman as a punching bag.
"Yeah, you'd think that wouldn't you? But, then there is me!" The woman smiled brightly. Unfortunately, it didn't reach her eyes. They waited as she processed the line, pushing her little scooter for items she couldn't access by using the conveyor belt of clothes.
"Ticket?" The woman's hand shook as she extended it.
He displayed his badge at the same time as Kallie. "Detectives King and Redman. We have several tickets issued to a Samuel Treyson." What color was left in the woman's already sallow complexion drained.
"Mr. Treyson?" She looked from one of them to the other, her brown