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Drinks on the front porch? Viv asked. The only thing that clashed with the decor was Vullo himself and, now that I think about it, me. After Murfin had gone Vullo sat slumped in his chair behind the immense desk staring at me coolly, maybe even coldly, with narrowed hazel eyes that seemed shrewd, clever, and possibly even brilliant. He quit staring only when he remembered that it was time to bite his fingernails. Where are they? So, Mason said, this policy of yours of answering questions in the fewest possible words was suggested to you by the district attorney at a conference last night? Yeah, Im okay. Why not? But Detective Foster did. This time her smile made me want to propose living together or maybe even tying the knot. Something was going on here. Despite the superficial flattery of her seeming interest, she struck me as far too intelligent for teases. Those eyes were as shrewd and knowing as they were lovely. She wanted something from me. Chapter Eighteen Theres somebody still inside the van, Stone said. Im following it. Maybe, I said, but it probably would mean a lot more to somebody else we know. I will do so, Lance said. He had not trusted Helen Speers, and she had been the one to save his life. So? Helen Speers stood there with her Glock still pointing at where Tapshaw had been standing a moment before. She looked down at Devine and started to run toward him, her phone coming out as she tapped in 911. Yes, sir. Its going. In some pretty odd directions. Devine told him Myers said he had gone into the storage closet because someone had requested a printer cartridge...