Badd was serious. Seriously crazy, and seriously asking for a death wish. But no, Gant couldn't do that. Or he wouldn't. No, he wouldn't let himself go that far again. If he could help it. But the chief had an awful bad track record of keeping his impulses under control. If he happened to be in the same vicinity as Badd and also in possession of his scalpels then who knew what the outcome might be.

As it stood, he didn't have a weapon here, so the balding ex-detective would get away. This time.

Gant found himself chuckling, and even sounded a bit unhinged to his own ears. But who cared what Badd thought now? Maybe Gant was a little on the insane side by now. Landel's kind of did make one start questioning after a while. "You're delusional if you think Showy isn't one hundred percent serious. And you're more disgusting than me if you'd risk a kid's life in order to get back at a washed-up old man for just a tiny bit of satisfaction." Some might have said that Gant was no better, but at least he had never threatened a teenager's life. Sure, he got Ema into a scrape before, but that was different.

Turning away from Badd, but not completely away in case the other man decided to do something crazy, Gant started to vigorous work on washing his hair. The quicker he could get out of here and away from Badd's presence, the better.