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Marcy’s rooms. The police would tell him she was just an innocent bystander. That they didn’t have the finances or manpower to secure every room in the hospital.
    That was okay. He’d secure the room himself.
    Nearing Leon’s room, he didn’t recognize the patrolman stationed outside Leon’s door except as the one who tossed him the Kevlar yesterday. Of course, there’d probably been a lot of changes in the past three years.
    The cop, Patrolman Kennett from his name badge, stepped in front of him. “May I help you, sir?”
    “Has FBI Special Agent Landon been here yet?” JB flashed his badge, even though he knew he shouldn’t, given that he’d resigned.
    Kennett was about his own age, early thirties. Same height, lean, and broad-shouldered. Cropped, dark hair with even darker brown eyes. Pressed uniform. Polished shoes. Overall, the man seemed professional in all regards. In fact, JB found it hard to believe he was only a rookie.
    The cop stepped aside. “He’s been in there about fifteen minutes.”
    “Did you offer to go in with him?” JB pushed the door open a slight crack.
    “Yes, sir. He said that wouldn’t be necessary.” Kennett raised his eyebrows in question.
    He let go of the door and waited until it closed before he locked eyes with the cop again. “Has Leon been assigned a lawyer?”
    “Yes, sir. Said he waived his rights for this conversation.” Kennett leaned in close enough to garner attention to his statement. “Said he was among friends. Then he motioned Agent Landon over to his bed.”
    Evidently, Leon thought this was some kind of game. JB remembered him being smarter than that. Of course, the man had walked into a bank the minute it opened and pulled a gun. Not smart. Then again, he’d always been a schemer, but what could he possibly be angling for at this stage?
    JB planned to stay out of any interaction with Leon. Since, to hear Wilson and Landon talk, he was already too biased to be anywhere near this case. “What friends?”
    “Beats me,” Kennett said.
    JB sighed and cricked his neck. On one hand, he was glad to see Leon talking to the FBI without an attorney regulating the conversation. On the other, something didn’t set right with the idea that legal representation wasn’t present. “Maybe I’ll hang around. See if Leon changes his mind about the attorney.”
    “You won’t have long to wait.” Kennett nodded down the hall. “The court-appointed attorney just stepped off the elevator.”
    The lawyer marched up to the two men, a scowl cemented to his face. “I’m Garrett Watlow. Leon Ferguson is my client.”
    JB held out his hand, flashing his shield in the other. “I’m Jean Bradley. My friends call me JB.”
“I’m not your friend, Mr. Bradley.” The attorney ignored the offer of civility. “What were you doing questioning my client without my permission?”
    Kennett opened his mouth as if to defend him, but JB held up his hand then looped his thumbs in his front pockets. Non-confrontational.
    “Well, Garrett, you were my friend in high school.” He leaned back against the wall. “You better get your facts straight before you blow steam in my direction.” He nodded at the cop.
    “JB hasn’t talked to Leon.” Kennett said. “Special Agent Landon is in there.”
    Garrett didn’t offer an apology. Instead, he barged through his client’s door. “Don’t say another word, Leon.”
    Landon swung around. Surprise shot across his features, and trepidation coated his expression.
    JB watched from the doorway.
    Leon’s expression went from carefree to anxious. “What are you doing here, Watlow? I didn’t call you.”
    The attorney ignored his client and faced Landon. “Get out of here now. I’ll be lodging a complaint with the Sheriff’s Department and your superior, too.”
    Landon glared at him as if he were a gnat to be swatted away.
    No fear etched Watlow’s face, either. “If I find out you’ve compromised this case then I’ll have you