He popped the trunk, then got out of the car.
Brody ambled over when he was going through his hidden stash.
“Sorry about Ian,” Brody said in lieu of a greeting and they man-hugged quickly.
“Thanks. It is what it is.”
“So you’re leaving town?”
“I’m trying to,” Quinn spoke absently as he got out his Glock and the extra magazine. He left the backup, older Glock in the hidey hole. Then he took his knife and strapped it around his ankle.
At least he’d had time to change into jeans after the funeral. He moved his stuff around and frowned at his bullet proof vest.
“Wait…” Brody said slowly.
“Oh, right.” Quinn handed over his badge and waited as Brody read it.
The sudden, loud belly laugh almost startled him, and Quinn looked at Brody.
“Sorry, it’s just…you’re a….” He tossed the badge back to Quinn, shoulders still shaking. “Of course you are. It makes so much sense. Oh man…” Brody wiped his eyes and then got serious again.