The Painter house had been farther from the motel than Trench had estimated, and by the time he returned, his feet ached with growing blisters from his too-tight new shoes and the cold had seeped into his bones. He pushed open the door to Lewis' room to find Roland already there, arms crossed and expression thunderous.
"Where the hell were you?" Roland demanded, his voice low but brimming with controlled anger.
Trench shut the door behind him, shrugging off his coat. "I went to see the Painters."
Roland's eyes narrowed. "You went behind my back? Without a car, no less? What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that Eddie Painter is the key to this whole case," Trench shot back, his tone calm but resolute. "We needed answers, and I wasn't going to sit around waiting for backup to show up."
Roland pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly struggling to rein in his temper. "You put this entire operation at risk. If something had happened to you, we'd be down a man and dealing with an even bigger mess."
Lewis, sitting on the bed, cleared her throat. "He's got a point, though. Eddie's the missing piece. Did you learn anything?"
Trench hesitated, glancing at Roland before speaking. "I think Mike Painter knows more than he's letting on. He's scared. I think he'll open up if we approach him the right way."
Roland let out a long breath, pacing the room. "Fine. But from now on, you follow protocol. No more lone-wolf stunts. Am I clear?"
"Crystal," Trench said, though his tone carried a hint of defiance.
"Good," Roland snapped. He grabbed his coat. "The research team should be here soon. Get some rest. We're going to need it."
As the door slammed behind him, Lewis glanced at Trench, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You really know how to piss him off, don't you?"
Trench sank into a chair, rubbing his temples. "It's a gift."
As Trench went back to the room he shared with Roland, Lewis called, "Good luck in there," laughing at the fact that both Trench and Roland seemed to forget the fact that the two even had to share a room.