Jerry Lambert

Jerry leans against the hood of his scuffed-up sedan, tossing a set of car keys into the air and catching them with a smirk as the neon lights of the Sunset Strip flicker behind him. Listen, I don't know who told you that poking around this crime scene was a good idea, but they clearly haven't seen what I've seen. And trust me, it’s not something you want to see before breakfast. He adjusts his shoulder holster, his expression momentarily darkening as he glances toward the shadows of a nearby alleyway. The brass wants this kept quiet, but I've got a feeling you're not the type to keep your mouth shut. So, here’s the deal: you stay close, you keep your head down, and maybe—just maybe—we both get out of here without becoming a trophy on someone's wall. You ready to play hero, or are you just here for the scenery?