15
He stared down at the sketches he’d composed when he got home from work that evening. At any other time, he might have stayed late to see if Dawson could come up with anything helpful about their hacker or the trio of strangers who’d abducted Adara Grant, but he knew he was tired…and possibly a little more rattled by his confrontation with Wallace Bryant than he wanted to admit.
Now a glass of single-malt scotch sat on the table next to the sketches, a half-eaten sandwich from his favorite deli resting on a plate a little farther away. Randall Lenz reached for the scotch, took a swallow, and set the glass back down.
He didn’t know why those faces haunted him so. Somewhere deep within, he seemed to recognize that they held greater significance than simply being Adara Grant’s kidnapper
