Shannon's reaction to the question was not any sort of offense. Whatever rumors had been floating around, what use would it do to be offended and defensive about the idea of corruption in the precinct? It was laughable. Sure, some of the guys and gals there were total dicks and had their heads too far up their asses to see sunlight, but there was a fine line between doing the work with a bit of grump and doing the work for ulterior motives. There probably was corruption in the department. There always was.

"If there's corruption in the police department," he said carefully, "I'm impressed they've retained so much of their morals as to let the rest of us get on with the job and maintain a 72% case closure rate." He tilted his head back far enough to address Delacroix more directly. "That's just our department, mind, but I like to take that as a positive sign."

Before he could keep waxing on, an officer emerged from the alleyway. "Hey, Vaughn! Where'd Vasquez go?"

Shannon turned toward the questioner, Bates, and his ears twitched back just a smidgen. Despite the fact that he had been watching the alley most of his conversation with Delacroix, he answered, "How should I know, moron? Ask Rocha."

"Rocha said he might have talked to you before going," Bates said irately. "You're all partners, right?"

"Javier probably saw that I was busy," Shannon said pointedly. He turned his head back to Delacroix and offered a roll of his eyes before returning attention back to Bates, who was scoffing in disgust.

"Busy shooting your mouth off, looks like," grumbled the officer. He ducked back into the alley for another round with Rocha. Shannon sighed as he could tell the oppressive presence was taking his leave. That guy was an asshole who had been at the department for two years and still thought himself above Shannon for being able to carry a gun. Stupid posturing.

Now, he turned his attention back to the reporter in full. At least he had some respect. "Now, where were we?"