Thirty-Six“To what do I owe this pleasure?” John looked up at Deputy Virgil Hale over his warm buckwheat pancake. He wasn’t going to get up from the breakfast table to greet the man. His hair was still damp from cleaning up after the tense ride back from Marysville, and he’d just sat down to eat. “Pull up a chair. I presume you’ve had breakfast, but I’m sure cook can find you a coffee.” As if on cue, Mrs Snively bustled in with a fresh coffee pot.
John and Nat had made excellent time back to Grass Valley, but his stomach had clenched every time he thought of Zeng. Today was Zeng’s deadline, the day he expected the seal to be delivered — or else. Or else what, John wondered. Was Isabella already the next casualty, or had they just failed to find her?
He’d hardly noticed the translucent da
