"Nobody said it was a vigilante."

"Nobody said it was a sniper yet either. But you've got the body of a prisoner over there and some pretty precise blood spatter on the wall and nobody else injured or wounded, which deals out the scattershot gangbangers."

"Nobody said it was gangbangers, Nick."

"So the victim isn't a gang felon?"

"I didn't say that."

"Nobody said it was an asshole pedophile who killed two little girls either," Nick said and watched for the quick twitch in the corner of Cameron's mouth that always gave him away

Both of them stopped the dance for a silent few seconds. Cameron put his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. Nick put his notebook away and started spinning the pen in his fingers like a miniature baton and watched the top of the ladder where Hargrave and his partner had not yet shown themselves.

"Nick," Cameron finally said. "How did you know to go up there? Were you tipped off?"

This was what they called trading information. It was a subtle agreement to give each other what they had. The only rule was truth. But it worked with certain press officers, the ones with personal integrity and the ones who trusted that Nick wouldn't burn them with the other media. Cameron was one of the few.

"No," Nick said. "It was just a guess based on your guys lining up the shot and the spatter pattern that our photographer caught with the zoom."

Cameron nodded. "And the pedophile thing?"

"Just a tip, Joel. Nothing insidious."

Cameron shook his head. He knew Nick had made contacts over the years. He also knew he'd just made a bad bargain.

"You'll confirm if I get anything first, right?" Nick said just to make sure.

Cameron kept shaking his head, this time with a grin. "Yeah, I'll confirm. You just can't use my name."

Nick returned the grin, slapped the press officer on the shoulder and walked away.