Stepping over to the table I lift the photo to see a couple and their child, nothing out of the ordinary for an old cop to remanence about the past. But something didn't seem right. Stepping out of the café, frame in hand I watch the headlights of the patrol car leave. Looking back down to the photo, I shove it into my overcoat before making my way to my truck.
"What do you think?"
"I think they know something we don't. But…"
The soft voice hums, as I lean back in my seat. Keys in the ignition and eyes glued to the rain drops that cascade down the window.
"Should we be worried?"
"I- I don't know… lets just keep distance and see what they do… We must finish the game before the pieces run short."
Revving the engine, I turn from the lot. So many fresh bodies to make pieces so little time. What to do now?