Wine and Gun

Albarino remained silent, reached out and unbuttoned Herstal's suit, Herstal put a hand on his shoulder and cooperated to break free from under the suit. The cloth rustled down and piled under their feet, and Albarino turned his head slightly to bite the side of the other's neck, his teeth sinking into the pale skin that didn't shine. Herstal gasped slightly and turned his head to match his movements, a gesture that seemed almost submissive.

But Albarino knew that Herstal would not like this kind of behavior. The scar on his neck that couldn't go away clearly showed it all. When Albarino bit the skin slightly, he He could feel Herstal's body tightening slightly, but the other party still didn't do anything.

So Albarino went on to untie Herstal's vest. He understood the professional needs of being a lawyer and this person's obsessive-compulsive aesthetic pursuit, but did Herstal really not find it very troublesome? His fingers landed on the other party's neckline, and with a rough and forceful pull, the buttons of his shirt snapped out.

Albarino heard him take a low breath, and the sound caused a throbbing in his throat, his flesh quivering slightly just before his teeth.

"Do you like being a little rougher?" Albarino asked, not controlling his pleasant and rising voice, who really seemed pitiful and gentle at such a moment, he was not a Sunday gardener. His lips were pressed against Herstal's neck, and he could feel the warm, throbbing pulse of his veins, even though the skin beneath the cloth was bloodless due to the sunlight, it was strangely alive.

"...Shut up," Herstal replied in a low voice.

Lavasa McCard met his unexpected visitor in a round-the-clock café opposite the hospital.

"I didn't expect you to meet here on a date," he said in a relaxed tone as he sat down. "Is it because of that Miss Molozer?—I heard she was your colleague at BAU, no It's a shame to see her in court. If she were there, the scene might be very different now."

McCard's mouth twitched indifferently and stiffly, and said, "This has nothing to do with you, Mr. Slade."

Kaba Stryder smiled unsurprisingly. He leaned back in the chair and tickled his fingers lazily. A bodyguard standing beside him handed him a price list for the cafe. McCard noticed that the waiter at the cafe who was standing there couldn't help but look in their direction. If it wasn't too late and there was no one in the cafe, maybe they would be on the morning news the next day. , The turmoil related to Slade hasn't actually passed yet.

He waited patiently for two seconds, but the person sitting across from him was still concentrating on the list, and he didn't seem to be the first to speak. McArd felt a headache at this guy's indecisive expression. He had no idea what the purpose of this man was to find him, so he had to take the initiative to say: "I think we should talk about business, Stley. Mr. De."

Stryder glanced casually at McCard over the price list and asked, "Actually, you also think that the case at Sequoia Manor is my envoy, don't you?"

That's a good question, and McCard estimates that there may be more people who believe Slade is guilty than the Republicans who voted in the election late last year. This is indicated, but there are signs that cannot be considered legitimate evidence."

"Actually a lot of things are like this, Mr. McCard, you've been a federal police detective for enough years, and you should have seen a lot of these scenes, right?" Slade seemed to not understand his voice at all. As if in disgust, he said so without hesitation. After he said that, he ordered himself a cup of coffee that as long as you drink it, you will never want to sleep at night, and when Stryder has put the price list back in place, he looks up again. Looking at McCard.

This time, there was a slightly unpleasant smile on the corner of his mouth.

"Presumably, the same is true for Westland pianists? Maybe you already have some ideas in your heart, but you can't convict these murderers?" Slade said meaningfully, "I I hear you've been following these Westland cases for a long time."

"What does that have to do with you?" McCard retorted - his actions were indeed deadlocked, as he had flowed with Bart Hardy before, and there was no doubt they had nothing to give that Evidence of the conviction of the two murderers, and the two men did not commit the crime again during this time: this is really cunning, as if the other party can already hear his heart.

Just because of this reality, McArd's sense of urgency is all the more intense. Rational murderers - of course, some people may retort that there are no rational murderers in the world - you must know that it is so subtle now The balance cannot last long, as long as you stay in one place and keep committing crimes, sooner or later there will be a net. And what about Herstal Armalite and Bacchus? Will they suddenly wash their hands and leave this place?

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