Chapter 23Devin yawned as he stalked down the tile floor of the hotel in search of his brother, coffee, and someone to do his clear thinking for him. A night of poor and restless sleep had not improved his demeanor in the slightest, and he had developed an ache in his jaw. In short, he felt like hell.
Christopher had taken a chair in the adjoining restaurant, alongside a long bar plastered in creamy white that was only manned in the evening. Several small wrought-iron tables with matching chairs provided convenient if somewhat less than comfortable seating, scattered across a floor of plain dark-red tiles. A sideboard along the wall opposite the bar held much-needed sustenance.
Chris held a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a slip of paper in the other. His face contorted in a puzzl
