already swarming with cops and forensics by the time I arrived, the harsh strobe of red and blue lights reflecting off damp pavement. The cold, metallic tang of blood hit me before I even reached the tape. I duck under it, nodding to the uniformed
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officer stationed there. } FBI, { I said, flashing my badge. “Agent Kane.” Detective Moreno was the first to approach me, her leather jacket pulled tight against the chill. She was tough, sharp-eyed, and about as no-nonsense as they came. “You’re late.”} Yeah, well, I was busy, { I muttered,
falling into step beside her as we made our way toward the carnage. The alley was a mess. Two bodies lay sprawled on the ground, both men, both riddled with bullets. Blood pooled beneath them, glistening in the light of the streetlamps. The graffiti-splashed walls told the rest of
the story this wasn’t random. It was a message. } Cartel? { I asked, crouching near the nearest body. “Most likely,” Moreno said. “This guy,” she pointed to the man closest to me, “was a mid-level player in the Martinez crew. Other guy’s his bodyguard.” The bodyguard was built like a
tank, but it hadn’t done him much good. Whoever came for them was precise, ruthless. This wasn’t an amateur’s work. } Witnesses? { I asked, already knowing the answer. Moreno shook her head. “Couple of residents heard the shots, but no one saw anything. They don’t want to
get involved.” } Smart, {I say knowing, the cartel had a way of making people disappear. Standing, I shove my hands into my pockets as I surveyed the scene. My head was pounding, a dull throb that had started the moment I left her apartment. Her voice
echoed in my mind, soft and steady: 'Is this how it always is for you? One foot out the door?' She wasn’t wrong. I push the thought away, focusing instead on the details in front of me. The angle of the shots. The blood spatter. The way the bodies had fallen. } They were ambushed, {I said after
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