Hank was still on scene, “overseeing the feds,” as Mitch put it, but the rest of his deputies had returned, giving Brad the rundown before writing up their reports. Issac hung back after the others had left his office. “What is it?” Brad asked, knowing from the expression on his deputy’s face that he wasn’t going to like the answer.

Issac leaned forward conspiratorially. “News,” he said.

“Yeah?” Brad prompted.

“Word on the street is that this isn’t the end of it. The bank’s arming different factions in town. They want to start a war.”

“Word on what street? And what factions are we talking about?” Brad shook his head dismissively. “Jesus shit. This isn’t fucking Chicago. We don’t have gangs here.”

“All I know is—”

“You can’t believe every random rumor.”

“But what if there is a shootout?”

“It’s not the OK Corral, either.”

Issac nodded but remained in place.

Brad sighed wearily. “Fine. Go ahead and chase it down. Who knows? Things are so crazy now that it might be true. And if it turns out that we sat on our asses when we could’ve done something…”

“Right on it,” the deputy said.

“Make sure you tell the FBI what you told me. Let them get in on the fun.”

“Will do.”

Brad followed him out of the office, walking past Carol’s desk to the bullpen, where Vern, Mitch and Bill F. were typing on computers. Paul and Norris were standing in the door of the break room, awaiting their turns. A pall hung over the station. Clint was not supposed to have been in today, but his absence still filled the building, a black hole of emptiness at the heart of the department.

“Norris!” Brad raised his hand, calling the man over.

The deputy made his way across the room. “What’s up?”

“You and Bill G. are pretty tight, right?”

Norris shifted his feet uncomfortably. “Yeah, but… I mean, I didn’t know he was planning to quit or—”

Brad held up a hand. “I don’t care about that. I just want you to have a talk with him, see if he knows anything about the bank financing the shooting, maybe find out what else he knows, see where his loyalties lie.”

Norris nodded soberly. “I’m on it…And, honestly, I didn’t know anything about—”

“I’m not blaming you for anything. I’m not even blaming Bill. I just need you to find out what he knows, and if he can help us.”

“Done.” Norris headed over to the unused desk in the corner, which had no computer but did have a phone.

Brad got himself some coffee, then wandered back toward his office, thinking he needed to stop by the hospital on his way home and check in on Hildy.

“Who’s on duty tonight?” he asked Carol.

“Who do you want?”