- 5 - Michael moved slowly toward the prone body, tension tightening his muscles. He knelt and touched the man’s throat. Ilene didn’t want to see any more. The image she had would stay with her forever; she couldn’t make it worse by getting a better view of the dead man’s face. Michael’s head bent, his expression twisted into a combination of pain and anger as he shook his head. When he probed into the handyman’s pocket, Ilene wondered what he looked for. She understood in a moment when he extracted the key to the hotel room. He stood up, reached into his own pocket and pulled out his own keys with the tense, jerky motions of barely leashed fury. “Get the laptop.” He handed both keys to her. A siren wailed some distance away as she ran back through the house and down to th

