Lionel Fusco was about ready to go into early retirement and take on a new identity in Fiji because his life was getting to be far too complicated for his tastes. Stills pulling him into his dirty business with him had been bad enough, but at least he'd had someone to cover for him. When it had been uncovered that Stills was an Unknown, Fusco had honestly been able to say that he'd had no idea. They'd let him off the hook, but transferred him to homicide. Now everyone here gave him suspicious looks and he wondered to himself how long it would take before his illicit activities would come back around to bite him in the ass.
Now it seemed like it was finally happening and all he could think about really was that he'd really wanted to buy Lee some new hockey gear and now he wasn't going to be able to.
One his way out of the precinct for lunch, he'd been jumped by a dark-winged seraph in a finely-cut suit. The man currently had him crushed face-first against an alley wall with his own gun pressed to the base of his skull. It would have been uncomfortable even if he had been Wingless. As it was, his wings were pinned to him and that made it ten times worse.
"Hello, Detective," purred a voice close to his ear and the seeming pleasantness in that voice made him fear it all the more.
"What do you want?" Fusco demanded, trying to sound as though he wasn't afraid. He was fairly sure it didn't work considering he heard a soft chuckle from the man behind him.
"I'm just here to offer you a little job, Lionel. No need to be so…confrontational about it. I thought maybe you could do me a favour since I'm not going to tell anyone that you've been working with HR."
"That's what this is about? You want a cut of HR money? Well, I got news for you—I haven't been working with HR since they found out Stills was and Unknown," Fusco snapped, that that would be enough to get the guy to leave him alone.
"I'm not after money, Detective," the voice whispered as the gun pressed a little harder into his neck. "I want you to get me all the files regarding those military gang robberies that have been going on the past few months. I also want anything you can find on the murder of Theresa Whitaker and her family."
"Why-?"
"Just do what I asked, Lionel, and I promise that no one will get hurt. Don't do anything stupid…I'll be watching."
The pressure holding him against the wall let up and Fusco released his pent-up breath. Before he could turn around, though, the voice behind him nearly gave him a heart attack.
"I'll be in touch, Lionel." Fusco could have sworn he that he heard a quiet snicker.
With a groan, he leaned his head onto his arm and wondered balefully what he was being dragged into now.