"I don't want to. I've been sitting for three days."
“Fair." He pours himself a glass of water, then leans against the counter. "We found another shell company."
I straighten immediately. "And?"
"It connects three of the warehouse leases."
"Drugs?"
"We think so."
My mind is already racing. "What about the shipping manifests?"
His eyes narrow. "They're missing."
"Convenient."
"Very."
I pace slowly across the kitchen. "So somebody's cleaning up."
"Not fast enough."
"And the photographic records?"
"We're waiting."
I nod automatically, already mentally arranging information into neat little columns the way I always do. God. I'd missed this. Missed using my brain for something other than wondering whether another bowl of soup counted as emotional resilience.
Locke watches me for
