Slipping the phone back into his pocket, Frank turned and started to say something. But stopped in mid-motion when he saw the look on Turner’s face as his partner held his phone up to his ear. Turner’s wiry, boyish smirk, his trademark, was gone. So was the good-natured light in the man’s eyes. Overall, Turner was the same man. Handsome. Rugged. That look of a movie idol. But there was a difference. A dramatic difference. One which Frank was all too familiar with.
There was a look of murder on his partner’s visage. Unaltered. Clearly defined. No room for misunderstanding. Turner was hearing bad news. The type of news which could turn a good man into a killing machine. Frank had seen the look on Turner’s face once before. A long, long time ago. It had not been pleasant.
Whoever was talkin
