César Soto paused on the one he deemed most likely to be the double-crossing thief who was looting artifacts from the Puerto Real site. Had the suspect also murdered the guitarist? Soto wasn’t betting the farm on that one. He had his suspicions. Hell, he had a very clear idea of the culprit. And that was without taking fingerprints from the scene or standing in watch while forensics had done their work. He wanted to nab the dirty cop. He oversaw this division and wouldn’t tolerate such a blatant flick of the finger at his command. It was a good thing he’d sent Annja Creed out of the city. He didn’t need her interference or a leak to the media regarding the possibility of a dirty cop. She’d gotten too close to the truth, and he had the distinct impression she was too smart to let things go. He picked up the sketch of the sniper’s face Creed had made adjustments to after the sketch artist had finished.
