<span style="color: #FF80FF"> <span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Lea Stevens</div></span></span> </span><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn24/SociallyToxicBeauty/036e0d3a-b28c-47ec-b858-0eaea6c67e4d.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FF80FF"><div style="text-align: center;">"Jazz"</div></span></span></span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“Lea, don’t underestimate that killer…I fear that guy has connections to the precinct…” </span><br/><br/>Carlos’ suspicions, she felt, were well founded. If the killer was as slippery as Carlos said, it was more than likely he had connections to the precinct. Who could be violent enough to do that though? Sure, some of the guys back on the force were a bit rough around the edges, but she had never thought they were bad people. Just a bit misguided.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“Maybe we could use your drug guys or some folks from the club to keep an eye on you…” </span>Carlos suggested and she pulled away slowly from him.<span style="color: #FF80FF">  “Carlos, I don’t know. Tommy is in the hospital, and the other guys aren’t…well they don’t care about me, so they aren’t going to do any work they don’t have to…the drug guys might be willing to help, but only after I get the drugs and money sorted out…I haven’t even talked to them yet about the bag being dumped,” </span>Lea replied as she leaned back in her seat some, wiping a few stray tears from Carlos’ face with the pad of her thumb.<span style="color: #FF80FF">  “I don’t mind you in the club, but if what you said was right, then he likely already does know both of us. It might make him more aggressive or he might avoid us completely…But the most important part is…if he recognizes us, there might be a chance we can recognize him,” </span>she gave a deep sigh, resisting the urge to rub her eyes.<br/><br/>Maybe she needed to get a new gun. She hadn’t touched one since she had shot the boy, not even while she was still on duty. She was afraid to own one, knowing her own suicidal thoughts and had never went out to get another. The precinct had let her go quietly and without a record, so she was still free to buy a gun.<span style="color: #FF80FF"> “…Maybe this would be a good time to carry again…?” </span>she said hesitantly, unsure of how Carlos would feel about Lea having a gun in her hands once more.<br/><br/>She was quiet for a moment, waiting for his reply. She was oddly nervous about it, maybe because it would be the first time she was willing to have a gun again or maybe because she wasn’t sure if Carlos would trust her with a gun again. She wasn’t exactly the most stable person anymore, not that she ever had been, but she had been far more stable in the force than she was currently.