"I know who you are, Detective."
"Dete…how did you know?"
Hank was about to tell a whole different story to Riley, but from how he was looking at him, it was clear that Riley definitely knew what he was. And Riley stared at him, perhaps for a few seconds, before he decided to move.
"It would be better if you do not start asking questions, Hank," he said before mounting the RV, "Live however you want to—this world is a big place, you do not need to be involved in the only thing you should not."
"Wait. Please, wait!" Hank quickly moved to block the RV, "What… does that even mean? And how did you know I was a detective?!"
"Bart told me, Hank."
"Bart…?"
"The bartender. His name is Bart," Riley shrugged as he started the RV. The loud rumble it created caused Hank to slightly back away. "He told everyone this morning that you were a detective."
"But… I didn't tell him I was a detective."
