“So it wasn’t even your idea, to give up on the fishing boat?” Vince’s tone is low and holding a dose of judgment, measured out to match the number of times Hyde has told him that he expects everything of him. So much condescension, so much disapproval, all while he was withholding tools the detective could have used.
“It came at an odd time,” Hyde sniffs, petulant. “A different week and I’d have made the call myself, Bennett.” He scratches at his arm, hidden under one of his cardigans. “And then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, so. Not much need for it.”
There isn’t really time for Hyde’s evasions. “What convinced you to give up our strongest—who—?” Vince tries, unsure how to say how could you be so stupid without saying it. There’s a line he’s already barely toeing an
