“Follow me,” Mars said succinctly, walking toward the kitchen.
“What the hell. Is that the watchword for the day,” Dylan muttered as he did.
When they were in the kitchen, Mars crossed to a door at the back which led to a small office. Once they were inside, he locked the door and then settled in the chair by the desk. Following suit, Dylan took the other one.
“We’re pulling you out,” Mars said tersely.
“Like hell. I’m just starting to get to know what’s going on there. I haven’t even seen any buyers yet, to say the least of Webb or one of his cronies selling any weapons.”
“You saw two buyers and got their pictures,” Mars replied. “Right before you left for the day.”
“I did?” Dylan frowned. “You mean those two men in jeans and jackets? I figured they were the night crew.”