81
Demetrius
The iron gate had been left open presumably from someone who had just entered or was about to leave. Demetrius turned into the drive and shut off the car. He and Amara exited and bounced up the porch, stomping the snow off their feet as Demetrius rang the bell. An attractive, dark haired lady with the initials MCVH monogrammed on a black cashmere sweater answered the door. She wore a huge pearl ring on one hand and an equally large amethyst on the other. She looked unhappy.
“We’re looking for Evers Van Houten,” Demetrius said.
“He’s not home. Who are you?” she asked, keeping her hand on the door.
“Business associates.” He said, telling a half truth.
“Then why didn’t you go to the plant?”
“I don’t know—-.”
“A feeling,” Amara said, moving closer. “We had a feeling he’d b
