CHAPTER FIFTEEN
She met with Kirk Peterson for a very late lunch at a Tex-Mex place just twenty minutes away from the field office. It was ideal because she hadn’t really eaten much of anything over the last day or so, just snacking on pastries whenever she managed to get coffee. When she entered the place and saw Peterson sitting in a booth in the back, she joined him.
She was glad to see that he had been telling the truth about his current state. He did indeed look better. The five o’clock shadow on his face looked intentional rather than neglected. He was wearing casual clothes—a hoodie and a pair of jeans with a baseball cap—but still looked clean. Mostly, though, the recovery she saw came from his eyes and the expression he gave her when she sat down across from him. Whatever had be
