By the time Leon arrives at the warehouse, the place is already crawling with feds, the irritating buzz of local cops clamoring for info. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, the way these intense scenes draw them all like vultures. Everyone wants to be the one to solve it, to sort it out. At least the media hasn’t shown up. Yet.

He steps under the yellow tape, dodging idling paramedics (too late for that) and agents snapping shots of every possible inch of the place. When occasion and reasonable suspicion calls for it, someone from HQ, usually Leon himself, might be sent out to check on a crime scene, if just to rule out any links to his particular field of expertise.