“Yo, Marlo!â€? Jackson, his partner, called from the doorway. “The surveillance tapes are ready. You comin’?â€?

“Uh, yeah… â€? Marlo frowned. His dark brows were knitted so close together, they looked like a furry caterpillar on his strong-featured face. He lifted his eyes to meet Jackson’s. “Something’s not right here, Jax.â€?

Jackson looked at Marlo… really looked. There was black and gray stubble on his worn face; his dark hair was disheveled and wild. In the seven years they’d been partners, Jackson had not seen Marlo look this ragged.

Jax stepped into the room. “What’s up, man?” he said with concern. “What makes you think something isn’t right?â€?

Marlo thought of telling his partner of the general sense of unease he’d felt when he arrived on the scene. He thought of telling Jackson that it was nothing he could put his finger on, just a feeling.

He thought of being laughed out of the precinct for acting like a tight-panty-wearing priss.

Nah, better to discuss it later with Charly.