"Just because you patrol Riverside doesn't mean that you wouldn't go somewhere else to put a body there." His voice didn't hold the vicious certainty that it had before. It was still angry, that wouldn't be going anywhere for the rest of the conversation, but he wasn't raging. Just accusatory and doubting.
Tried to stop the bleeding. Yeah, David could see that. But, "Covering your tracks," was the next thing that came out of his mouth.
Shoot me, then. You’ll see I’m not when bodies keep piling up.
It should've been enough. Hannigan's defense was flimsy at best, but coupled with the fact that he was having trouble just to stand up was nearly enough to make David lower his gun. Nearly. He was a little more hesitant than he was before, but the gun was still raised, aimed and ready.
"Luke, don't."
George's words had taken him out of his doubtful stupor, and even though he kept the gun trained on Hannigan, he leaned down to grab Dog's leash, because she was still ready to attack. "Let your uncle." He couldn't hold her back completely—that much was obvious, considering what had just transpired before he got here—but at least he could slow her. "O'Brien will have to figure out what to do with you, then."
He tried to calm himself, but he still didn't trust anything about this situation. "How long until they're here?" he asked George. "Did anyone say?"