It's easy to give a lowdown on what happened, given that it did all happen in the last barely five minutes. If they were pressing it. Telling them to keep the men from the place, aside from an evidence guy or two. Follow that up with a description the accessory, the girl with a bad blonde shade and a even bigger mouth, tight pants and a bikini, that should be somewhere on these premises still, too.
It doesn't hurt that Danny, when Steve forces himself to get eyes on erstwhile partner, is actually doing his job.
He's got the victim over with the EMTs. Some whom are helping her, and another who looks like he's getting Danny's attention. Which is good. Its fine. He doesn't need Williams to canvas a house. It's not like he'd know one of Victor's calling cards if it was staring him in the face, and Steve wasn't feeling all that charitable toward even pretending he needed help anymore. Not after he needed him for the lead Danny then erased from the board. He can go on doing that while Steve walks back to Doran's place.
A world of shot out broken glass and wood. No holes in anything, because nothing was solid enough to really keep its one piece once it'd been shot through. Another of those why anyone chose to live there by choice things, that came and just went, as he was coming up the stairs. He pulled a small flashlight out of one of his many pockets and started a room by room search of the place from the entryway. Looking for anything that pinged as familiar.
Anything like all the flats he'd seen in the last five years chasing the Hesse brothers. It wasn't theirs, but he'd best the eyes, the only eyes, on this island, that could recognize something of theirs if there was anything to be found. And something needed to be found. He had to find something. Between this place and the mockery of his Dad's place, covered in blood and prints, he had to find something. There was no prayer or wishing it. He had to, so he would. Somewhere. Somehow. He'd find it.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2014-01-19 03:30 am (UTC)It doesn't hurt that Danny, when Steve forces himself to get eyes on erstwhile partner, is actually doing his job.
He's got the victim over with the EMTs. Some whom are helping her, and another who looks like he's getting Danny's attention. Which is good. Its fine. He doesn't need Williams to canvas a house. It's not like he'd know one of Victor's calling cards if it was staring him in the face, and Steve wasn't feeling all that charitable toward even pretending he needed help anymore. Not after he needed him for the lead Danny then erased from the board. He can go on doing that while Steve walks back to Doran's place.
A world of shot out broken glass and wood. No holes in anything, because nothing was solid enough to really keep its one piece once it'd been shot through. Another of those why anyone chose to live there by choice things, that came and just went, as he was coming up the stairs. He pulled a small flashlight out of one of his many pockets and started a room by room search of the place from the entryway. Looking for anything that pinged as familiar.
Anything like all the flats he'd seen in the last five years chasing the Hesse brothers. It wasn't theirs, but he'd best the eyes, the only eyes, on this island, that could recognize something of theirs if there was anything to be found. And something needed to be found. He had to find something. Between this place and the mockery of his Dad's place, covered in blood and prints, he had to find something. There was no prayer or wishing it. He had to, so he would. Somewhere. Somehow. He'd find it.