Unhinged by E. J. Findorff Page A

prints were found at his apartment. This guy Toliver was less than friendly with us earlier, and he doesn’t bathe, which goes along with Agent Wayne’s hair theory. He has no alibi, and he’s an admitted absinthe drinker.”
    â€œI’ll get a warrant,” Greenwood said. “You can get a sample of his hair, and we can match it to what you found in the dead man’s apartment.”
    Ron shook his head. “We want to send Bienvenue in undercover. He can come on to Toliver at Breaux’s and try to gain his confidence.”
    â€œThat sounds like a good idea.” Wayne rested his hands on his knees. “We can hook your guy up with a bug, and maybe Toliver will say something no one else knows about the crime scenes, and then we’ll have him. I wouldn’t recommend getting a hair sample from Toliver right now, Captain. One, a lawyer would be able to rip the results to shreds since Ryan Gant and Kenny Toliver used to see each other. Lord knows how many times he was in the victim’s apartment. Two, if he thinks he’s a suspect, he might be more suspicious of a setup. I say we go with the stakeout and save the hair comparison as icing on the cake.”
    â€œPerfect.” Greenwood smiled.
    Ron remained quiet. I expected to hear something from him as soon as they left.
    Wayne summed up the plan. “You inform Detective Bienvenue of what’s going down, and I’ll arrange for a surveillance van. We’ll try to get him in there tonight if Toliver’s working.”
    â€œRight,” Greenwood said. “You need anything, just let us know.”
    Wayne let out a huff as he rose from the couch, then made a round of hand shaking. “I’m going to the office, but I’ll be back this evening.”
    We watched the agent and Greenwood as they headed down the stairs.
    I veered off to my desk with Ron. Could Wayne see what an obvious bootlicker Greenwood was? I guessed that was how some people felt they had to advance their careers.
    I sat at my desk, and Ron stared right through me from his chair. I began to collect the files that were no longer needed and stacked them at one end of my desk. I waited patiently for something to come out of his mouth.
    He suddenly regained his focus and smirked. “They’re going to take over this investigation. You don’t know the Feds.”
    â€œCan they do that?” I asked.
    â€œNot technically,” Ron said, tilting his head. “They’re not supposed to take over criminal cases that aren’t under federal jurisdiction, but they do. They got so much backing them up that everyone’s scared to oppose them. Can you see Greenwood keeping them off our backs?”
    â€œNo. But they can probably help catch this guy. They have a lot of resources at their disposal, don’t they? You heard all the crap that the Feds have to work with.” I tried not to sound green, but I was generally unaware of the FBI’s regulations concerning criminal investigations.
    â€œYes, they do have a lot of resources, but they don’t see us as equals. They’re above us. They’re smart, and law enforcement officers are stupid, otherwise we’d be doing what they’re doing. They go through this Marine-type training, except it’s a bit more cerebral, and come out of it thinking they’re God’s gift to criminal investigations. They think we’re at their disposal when they get involved in local investigations. They look at us in the same light as the police look at the general public. They’re a tight-knit, exclusive club that’s worse than the police—they have the backing of the federal government.”
    I tried to calm him down. “No matter what, it’s our investigation. They’re not going to take it over. We’ll probably find the killer before they have a chance to claim the headlines anyway.”
    â€œYeah. C’mon, let’s get