Chapter 28
“If you’re not a cop, then what are you? Because you are sure as hell something. No wait, don’t tell me. You’re FBI. This is all because of the Ann Arbor thing, isn’t it? Nobody else would even give a s**t. Well, I don’t know anything about it and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”
Bill was pacing, a rapid and angry little loop that took him from a parked SUV to a nearby stack of boxes and back again, over and over. I was standing by the garage doorway with my arms folded, still mad. Which was clearly pointless, because Bill Barnar definitely had my number. I was exactly what he said I was.
“No idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “I’m not here about anything to do with Ann Arbor. But tell me this, Bill. What changed? Since when do regular hardcore bands and straightedge
