Mitchell Grant watched Xavier jog to the silver Chrysler 300, catch the keys from the guy he was with, and then disappear into the car. He wanted to know who the other guy was with Xavier.
His thoughts were briefly interrupted by the radio.
“Grant, what’s your 10-20?” Mitchell recognized his supervisor on the radio, a no-nonsense former DC cop.
“Just escorted some folks to the exit near M.”
“We have a 10-35 just south of you. Bring a camera, measuring tape, a good flashlight. We’ll be here awhile.”
“Ten-four.”
Before he headed back to the Club Car to make sure he had his camera there, he turned to see Xavier driving off. He hadn’t seen Xavier Gooding close to a year. They went out to dinner when he first got into DC, had a few beers and reminisced a little about when they went to law
