HDD Special Agent Kurt Fields was the first one to reach him, skirting several numbered yellow evidence markers placed on the wet asphalt. The guy was pale and had grown even grizzlier in the year they’d worked together. Kind of worked together. “I heard the call go out, got the details, and figured you’d be here on this fine Monday night.” His T-shirt was wrinkled and his brown shoes scuffed. He grimaced. As an HDD handler, he wasn’t bad. “The locals don’t want us at the scene, just so you know.”

“The FBI will take over soon enough.” Unless there was a way HDD could force itself in, which didn’t seem possible. Federal agencies rarely played well together, regardless of the party line. Force straightened, acutely aware of his men at his back. West and Wolfe had both seen some rough shit in their time, but this was something new. He needed West’s mind clear to run the office for now, but when he turned his head to issue an order, West was already shaking his head at him, his gaze direct. No way would he be left behind.

The guy would make a good profiler. Angus had never known an undercover operative who could inhabit another identity as completely as West.

Angus turned back around and started to focus, speaking as much to himself as to his team. “Everything is relevant. Anything out of place on a piece of garbage, any scratch on a building, any glint of something shiny.”

Agent Fields shook his head, sliding to the side and putting his barrel of a body between Angus and the scene. “You’re not understanding me. This is not your case. Hell, it isn’t even our case. Never will be.”

Fire ripped through Angus so quickly, his ears burned like he’d been touched with a poker. “Lassiter killed this woman, which makes this my case. Period.” He had to get to the body to make sure, but his gut never lied.

Special Agent Tom Rutherford, his blond hair mussed for the first time, reached them next. For once Force’s partner was not impeccably put together, although his too-blue eyes were as pissy as ever. “You’re not supposed to be here. Neither are we.”

“I still have some sources in law enforcement and was contacted immediately about the crime,” Angus muttered, his hands itching for his gun. “Now get out of my way.”

Rutherford had light stubble at his chin—a very rare sight. “Don’t make me track down your source and fire them.”

Angus turned his focus to the HDD agent. He’d look good with two black eyes again. “I’m working this scene—this is Lassiter. He’s finally making a move.”

“You’re wrong. This scene isn’t the same as all the others,” Rutherford said, his eyes bloodshot.

Wolfe rocked back on massive boots. “What do you mean?”