“I will,” I said.
Nora Bell watched until I put both hands away from my bag.
“No notes?”
“No notes.”
Tessa Rourke rose beside the door.
“Shall I stay while you finish getting ready for tomorrow?”
“Please.”
There was no invitation for me in Nora’s answer. I said goodbye, wished her luck with the interview, and left the room.
Draven Vescari was in the chair where I had asked him to wait.
His jacket lay folded across his knees. He had loosened one cuff, and a faint red mark crossed his wrist where the edge had pressed. There was no phone in his hand, no impatient conversation underway.
He stood.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t ask for the answer while we were within reach of Nora’s door.
That small delay nearly undid me.
We went down the stairs together. At the turn, I stopped to let
