[center][h2][color=009966]Joseph 'Tank' Cooper[/color][/h2][/center]
[hr] 

"[i]Listen, I just got the radio call that another body from Boston Heights is on its way to the Coroners Office, I am heading down there now. Meet me there.[/i]" Greg said before promptly hanging up. Tank simply stared forward as he put his phone away. "[color=009966]Oh, capital.[/color]" he replied to no one in particular in a mock aristocratic voice. He slid onto his bike, and headed straight over. 

Tank saw Greg make it there just as he did, skidding his motorcycle to a complete stop right beside Greg's car. "[color=009966]Mornin' Sheriff. Reckon we got some evidence to rustle through?[/color]" he asked, giving off an impressive drawl as he spoke. He had no idea of Greg knew he was from the south. He tipped an invisible hat towards his fellow detective. Sliding off the bike as smooth as silk, he leaned on his ride.

Fortunately for him, because Greg didn't look in the mood, his tone became more professional the next he spoke. "[color=009966]Do we know anything about the body? Cause or time of death, assuming you spoke to anyone.[/color]" he said, slipping his hands in his pockets and following Greg up to where they needed to go. He knew this wouldn't take too long. Even if it did, he'd explain it to Greg.