Bad Behavior(132)

The trooper laughed. "Buttering me up already? You must be in need of a big favor, my man."

Wash put his hand on the small of my back. "Toby, this is Caroline, my associate."

"Hi." I smiled, though I kept trying to peer around Toby's impossibly broad chest to see what was going on. All I could catch was the edges of yellow tarps and other officers milling in and out of my line of sight.

"Nice to meet you. Sorry it's under such awful circumstances." Toby's smile faded a bit.

"You know why I'm here. I just want to keep up with my case." Wash's easy charm rolled off him like pleasant cologne.

"Last time I let you into a crime scene, Cap chewed my ass for a week straight."

"Cap was going to chew your ass anyway. Didn't get your ticket quota. Didn't press your shirt just right. Didn't give a good enough reach-around. You know, same old shit."

Toby shook his head and grinned. "Good to know you're still a son of a bitch." He glanced to me. "Sorry, ma'am."

"No." I returned his grin. "He is definitely a son of a bitch. Please go on."

Toby raised his eyebrows and looked to Wash. "This one's a keeper."

"I'm aware." Wash moved his hand lower toward my ass. "Now, back to business. How about you let us just look? I won't touch anything."

"How about you, Miss Caroline? You going to touch anything?" Toby winked at me.

"Depends on if I see something I like." I pretended I was Scarlett O'Hara, total coquette. "You never know with me."

Wash's hand moved lower and gripped my ass hard through my jeans.

"I think that answer deserves at least a peek. Come on." Toby put his arm out, and I took it. He led me through the dozen or so uniformed officers.

Wash followed close behind. I could almost feel his irritation at Toby's harmless flirting, and I couldn't stop my smirk.

We were nearly to the front of the crowd when someone called my name. I turned toward the voice and saw Matt Turnbull barreling down the nearest embankment.

Toby glanced to me. "Matt a friend of yours?"

"I wouldn't put it quite like that."

He squeezed my hand in the crook of his elbow. "This should be fun to watch."

Matt came blustering up, waving his hand around at Wash and me. "You two can't be here. This is a goddamn crime scene."

Wash stepped in front of me. "We have every right to be here to defend the interests of our client."

I moved closer to Toby to get a better view. Some of the other officers turned to watch, though they looked more amused than anything else.

"This is a state investigation. This is my turf. And I want both of you gone." Matt jabbed a finger at Wash.

Bad idea. Wash stepped toward him, but Toby put a quick hand on his shoulder before saying, "You're right, this is a state investigation. I'm the ranking officer at this crime scene, and unless anyone else would like to say different"-Toby surveyed the silent crowd in blue-"this is under my jurisdiction. So I say they stay, Matt."

Matt's eyes bugged a bit, and he put a petulant hand on his hip. "You can't be serious."

Toby laughed, but I got the distinct sensation he didn't find a thing funny. "They're surrounded by cops. What are they going to do? Take the body and run?"

Matt scowled. "You are compromising this investigation. I'll take this to your captain, Trooper."

A few of the officers chuckled. Toby moved to stand next to Wash and took me with him, so I was sandwiched between two large men who wanted to kick Matt's ass.



       
         
       
        

"You do that. I'm sure he'll love to hear some too-big-for-his-britches Law & Order wannabe ordering him and his troopers around. Go on and give him a call. See where that gets you." Toby tipped his hat at Matt and led me back toward the yellow tarp I'd spied earlier.

"This isn't over, Wash." Matt dogged our steps.

"No, it isn't." Wash's voice was keyed up, as if he were still looking for a fight. I didn't blame him. He was always at his best when the tension was at its peak.

Toby pushed through the remaining onlookers. When the last officer cleared out from ahead of me, I stopped in my tracks. Dr. Snider was on his knees, leaning over the victim's shriveled body. It was half clothed and white like all the others, drained of any blood.

But this one was different. I knew this one. The face was twisted in death, yet still recognizable.

Tyler Graves.





Chapter Seventeen


WASH

Caroline and I had spent an hour or so at the crime scene when I decided we'd seen all we could. I'd been itching to get Dr. Snider's take, especially since my prime suspect just ended up dead-a Bayou Butcher victim right down to the carving in his back and the finger missing past the knuckle.