Rex stood. “I’ll go get the detectives. Hopefully we’ll be out of here soon.”

Cincinnati, Ohio
Saturday, March 16, 8:30 p.m.

Cade blinked hard, trying to stay awake. He was fucking exhausted. He hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours and he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he’d taken care of the fisherman. Which was why he was sitting in a darkened SUV outside a darkened house, waiting for CSU tech Charlie Akers to get home.

He’d been able to find everything he’d needed on Mr. Akers’s social media, including his most recent photo, which confirmed he was the same man Cade had met at the crime scene, and that Akers complained a lot about money.

That explained the man’s minute hesitation before declaring he wasn’t interested in what Cade would pay for information. Akers had left himself open to convincing. Cade could be very convincing.

Sitting up straighter, Cade slapped both his cheeks to wake himself up. “Come on, Akers. Get your ass home.”

As if obeying his command, a car pulled up in front of the small house, stopping long enough for Akers to stagger out and wave to the driver. Cade rolled down the window.

“I’m good,” Akers said loudly, with a slur to his words. “You can go.”

The man was totally drunk. While that might make him more pliable, Cade hoped he wasn’t so drunk that he’d forget what he’d heard at the crime scene.

“You sure, man?” the driver asked. “I can walk you to the door.”

“Yep. I’m just fine.” Akers waved him on. “I’m gonna go to sleep.”

“You do that,” the driver agreed. “Maybe things won’t be so shitty tomorrow.”

“Yeah, they will be,” Akers said sadly. “’Cause Quincy fuckin’ Taylor is still my fuckin’ boss and I’ll still be on fuckin’ suspension.”

Suspension? That was good news. Akers’s anger might make him more inclined to spill the beans.

The car drove away and, pulling on a pair of surgical gloves, Cade got out of his SUV, reaching Akers just as the man stumbled, nearly falling to his knees.

“Whoa, there,” Cade said. “Let me help you.”

Akers looked up at him, frowning. “I know you. You’re that fucking reporter that got me fucking suspended.”

“You got suspended? You didn’t even tell me anything.”

“I know!” Akers said vehemently. “Fucking Agent Taylor. He didn’t believe me.”

“He’s a prick.” Cade led Akers up the front steps, giving him support when his knees started to buckle again. “Seems like you should at least get paid for information if you’re being suspended. I mean, you’re doing the time without doing the crime.”