"No, sir. What's, uh, going on?"

"Well, there was a shooting across the street this morning," Nick said.

"Yes, we saw all the news trucks and traffic from the front windows," the man said, looking over Nick's shoulder to the uniformed deputies who were now talking with Cameron.

"So these guys"-Nick nodded behind him-"were checking out your roof."

The man nodded as though it would be pretty routine for a handful of cops to be crawling up the side of his building.

"Did anyone inside see anyone back here this morning when you all came into work?"

"Just you people," he said, finally looking into Nick's face. "I figured there was something going on when I got here, but, you know, since your man didn't say anything, I just went straight inside."

"You mean just a few minutes ago, Dennis?"

Nick knew to always use the familiar first name if you could. It sometimes loosens them up.

"Oh, no. Like, before eight."

"Before eight you saw one of these guys?" Nick said, nodding back at Cameron and the cops.

"No. Not one of them. One of your, like, SWAT people, coming off the ladder."

The little man again looked over Nick's shoulder. Cameron was heading their way.

"What did this guy on the ladder look like?" Nick said, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice, knowing his interview was about to end.

"You know, dressed in black with this equipment bag and stuff slung over his shoulder. Scared the hell out of me at first, you know, coming off the roof like that. Then he kind of just waved to me and then walked on by. Later, when I was inside and people started seeing stuff happening over at the jail, it, you know, made sense."

"Can you describe this man, this SWAT officer, Dennis? I mean, was he tall, short, white, black?"

Skepticism started growing in Dennis's eyes, then went into the wrinkles of his small forehead. "Are you with the police?" he said.