Angus walked toward the door. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” How annoying. He sent a quick text to Nari, letting her know he might be late and to please hang out at HDD headquarters after brunch with the administrator. Maybe she could spend some time with Brigid. He sent a second text making the suggestion while following Tate out to his unmarked car. It certainly wasn’t the Bentley Angus had spent time in the day before.

The drive was made in silence and Angus studied the two detectives in the front seat. They worked well together, but there were no signs of affection or even friendship. It was a new partnership. “How long have you two worked together?” he asked, testing his theory.

“Three weeks,” Buckle said, peering out the passenger side window. “Why?”

“Just curious.” She’d answered one question, so he went for broke. “What’s your first name, anyway?”

Tate cut him a look in the rearview mirror.

Angus shrugged and grinned. “We’ve spent a lot of time together and I’ve been wondering.”

Buckle partially turned around to look at him. “What did you guess?”

“Something strong and old-fashioned. Margaret or maybe Hayden.” He tilted his head. “Or Joan. Yeah. Joan would be a good name for you.” His guessing game was pissing Tate off. Interesting.

“Hmmm,” Buckle said, turning back around.

Of course, Buckle was a good name, too. Angus looked out the window as they drove toward the mainly deserted parking area of his former office building. “Did the janitor say how the killer got inside?”

“No,” Buckle said. “However, the uniform who called it in didn’t see any sign of forced entry.”

That didn’t mean anything. That crappy old office would be easy to breach; it wasn’t as if HDD had sprung for security cameras. Not even in the elevator. Angus tried to settle his bulk in the back seat, but his knees were still shoved up. Not that he complained. Buckle would probably push her seat back even farther.

They drove across the parking lot, and he surveyed the dismal park to the left of the seventies-style building. For a short time the place had meant something to him. They’d put away some dangerous criminals from this building, and it was a slap in the balls for Lassiter to drop a body there.

Crime scene tape cordoned off the building and several patrol cars were parked with their lights swirling. Techs searched the parking lot on the other side, and one guy was visible in the park.

“You stay with us,” Tate said.

“Right.” Angus exited the vehicle and looked around. The entire area felt deserted. He turned and ducked under the crime scene tape before walking into the building he’d entered thousands of times. “The elevator is a little sketchy,” he warned them.