"So, this is the place."
Lucifer turned his head, looking up through the windshield. The house in front of them was pretty ordinary, and the neighborhood didn't seem to be anything special either. But it was the right address, and the mailbox out front clearly read "Reynolds". The house itself was mostly a pale, yellow-ish color, with dark and light grey splattered in a mix on the roof. A brick path led to the door, which was whiter than the rest of the house, but not completely. There were two windows out front, one on each side of the door, and it seemed to be a one-story house. He couldn't see through the windows, but he caught a glimpse of pale blue fabric - Curtains.
The Devil, for once, took in every detail. Anything, so he didn't have to focus on Michael.
His brother sat still beside him, observing the house in silence, which Lucifer certainly didn't mind because at least the older archangel's mouth was shut for once. He bit back a sigh and turned away, opening the door and getting out of the car. Michael chuckled, breaking the silence, if only briefly, as he got out as well.
"So now we arrest the big bad criminal?" His brother prompted, smirking at Lucifer. The Devil blinked back at him, closing the car door and looking toward the house. He considered staying silent just for the Hell of it - But, remembering the smack on the head earlier, he realized his brother could do, would do, and had done, a lot worse to him before just for little things - And clearly, ignoring him was not an option.
Lucifer grimaced, irritation blazing through him, white hot fury that froze him at the same time as he turned his gaze back to Michael, without quite turning his head toward his brother. "Well, we have to ensure he's guilty first."
"Boring, boring, boring," Michael groaned, pushing himself away from the car and heading toward the house. Lucifer sighed - And, briefly, wondered if this is how Chloe felt, working with him - And headed after his brother, shoving his hands into his pockets and keeping a good distance between them.
He opened his mouth to protest when Michael went to open the door without knocking, but, after a second, decided it was a lost cause and just snapped his mouth shut, glancing around them wordlessly. Michael pushed the door open, seeming pleasantly surprised that it was unlocked, and strode inside as if he owned the place. Lucifer followed wordlessly, adjusting his shirt with a frown.
He stopped in the hallway, watching Michael head off into various rooms, humming all the while. Lucifer stood still, eyeing the photos on the walls.
"Sinner, sinner, where art thou… Oh." His brother's sentence trailed off, his voice raising slightly, curiosity mingled with disgust entering his tone. Lucifer blinked, distracted, and quickly headed after Michael, reluctantly entering the last room he'd seen him go in and stopping in his tracks at what he saw.
A man - No older than Zoe, Lucifer would guess - Was sitting back in a chair, facing a desk. His head lolled back limply over the back of the chair, and his mouth gaped open, wide, unseeing eyes staring toward nothing. His throat was slit open, and the blood around the wound had long dried on his neck and shirt.
"There goes our bad guy," Michael complained, not seeming at all put off that yet another person had died. Lucifer bit back a groan and rubbed a hand down his face, eventually just pulling his phone out his pocket. Michael turned to him, looking curious. "Who're you calling?"
"The police," Lucifer grumbled, going to his contacts list and calling Chloe. Michael tilted his head, leaning back against the wall casually.
"We are the police, Sammy."
"Well we're probably gonna need more than just us," Lucifer snapped, annoyance winning over the wariness he held for his older brother. The archangel quirked an eyebrow, amused, as Lucifer continued, "and we're gonna need Ella down here, too, so just - Sit tight." He paused, going silent for a moment when the phone stopped ringing.
"Lucifer?"
"Hello Detective," Lucifer spoke up, his tone losing the bitterness he'd addressed Michael with as he turned his gaze back to the man in the chair - Poor Ashton. "Might want to get Miss Lopez and head on down here."