Page 135 of Sticks and Stones
He was a horrible wingman when the shit hit the fan. That was for damn sure.
Still, Will was staring at him.
“Like I said, Will, he’s working a case. He asked us to head here since a neighbor called him and said someone was lingering around his home, and we found it a mess.”
That was partially the truth so he only felt half as bad as he should.
“I see. Why wouldn’t the police handle this then? Why would he call the FBI to come to his house?”
Gene had to think fast.
“Because Ethan and I have a key. I was out working on a case with Greyson, and got the call from him. As for everything else, you need to talk to Corbin. I’m sure he’s tied up with something important that’s work related. You know how homicides are.”
He stared at him.
The whole time, Gene made eye contact, and tried not to give off any tells.
“Weren’t you supposed to be on vacation?” he asked, suspiciously.
Yeah, don’t remind him.
Had someone told seven A.M. Gene that one P.M. Gene was going to be in Corbin’s house dealing with the aftermath of this nightmare, he would have punched them in the face.
Seriously.
“It was postponed due to a case we had to take,” he said, and that was one hundred percent the truth.
Deep down, he knew the more lies he told, the worse this was going to be later.
For him.
This would be awkward as all hell when Corbin brought the man around again, and he was left holding the bag of lies. It wouldn’t be Corbin who Will would be angry with, it would be the messenger.
HIM.
“I see.”
Shit.
It was never good whenANYONEsaid‘fine’or‘I see’. Gene was smart enough to know that. The few times Ethan had said them, the shit hit the fan right afterward.
What he wanted to do was tell the man, so he could head to his place to comfort Corbin.
What he could do was lie, lie, and lie some more.
It was crazy since he knew that they were both going to need each other.
“Thanks for the help,” Will said, turning and walking out the door.
When he slammed the door, Gene sighed.
That was sarcasm, he was sure.
Well, that went about as well as it could go.
“Is he gone?” Greyson asked, yelling down from upstairs.
He headed his way.
