The Prospect She Claimed

He brought me a mistake in my own report, and I have never been so annoyed to be corrected by a man with a patch. Teo Ramirez is thirty-one, a Crows prospect, and a former combat medic who spent three years in county for his brother and came out without a grudge, which I find suspicious. I'm forty-four, I run the morgue in Hamilton County, and my rule about patched men has served me well for a decade. Then a John Doe came in with tattoos the Crows recognized and a bullet pattern that didn't match the scene, and the club sent me their youngest member as a liaison because nobody else wanted the job. He reads differently than I do. He carries a patient differently than the deputies carry a suspect. And when the second body surfaces and I ask him to keep something off the record, he tells the club anyway, because he said he would, and I have to decide whether integrity I don't agree with is still integrity. Seven men and one indict — a curvy girl, age gap, motorcycle club romance where the hero is the younger one.