<span style="font-weight: bold">LA record store </span><br/><br/>“Well, you heard him,” Dale asserted “ditch the shades Schott. We’re being invited in, after all.”<br/><br/>Kip let off a slight growl, before reluctantly taking his sunglasses off and suspending one the temples on his navy blue shirt. His light blue eyes were deep and coarse. Almost intimidating to look at.<br/><br/>“Alright son, how about leading the way now?” Kip asked, a slight gangster accent about him. He carried on chewing gum as James lead them towards the lounge.<br/><br/>They walked through the hallways. A deadly silence between them all. Dale and Sanchez made sure to take in as much as possible from their surroundings as they walked. In case there was something suspicious to note.<br/><br/>“Have a seat officers,” James beckoned them towards some couches when they arrived into the room.<br/>It was well let, modern and classy looking. If not saturated with black, white and grey colours.<br/><br/>The cops exchanged unreadable glances, before taking James up on the offer to seat themselves.<br/><br/>“So you knew this geezer?!” Kip asked, referring to the record store owner “how’d did you know he was dead?”<br/>Dale gave Kip a bit of an irritated look. He had to admit, Kip’s approach towards interviewing suspects was so unprofessional!