She stared at him for a second jaw set. She didn't like the sound of any of this. "Sometimes," she quipped relaxing her face and leaning back in the seat.
"No, I don't wear blues anyone. But I am the one they call when the sociopath fucks up and gets caught" She gave him a look. " And believe me you will get caught, eventually. I track them down, kick their ass and collect my motherfuckin' bounty."
She boldly reached over and took the uneaten pickle off his plate.
"Look I don't know what you're doing in that hotel, or what the hell you've been doing instead of going to therapy and frankly I don't care because I ain't a blue anymore. But as soon as it becomes my problem. I'm commin' for your ass. Grief stricken or not."