CHAPTER 14––––––––
Their footsteps echoed out of sync in the vast hangar as Bohannon and Suter walked along the gray aluminum wall heading toward the small conference room tucked in the corner away from the remains of the airliner. The FBI agent made no effort to time his pace to walk alongside the detective. Bohannon stared at the back of Suter’s head, noted his dark hair looked spikier this morning, a little less conservative. Probably due for a haircut. The detective sauntered behind at his own pace, refusing to speed up.
“Are you feeling better?” Bohannon asked, projecting his voice ahead.
Suter didn’t slow down, just kept walking tap, tap, tap across the cement floor at his own speed.
“Much better,” Suter said as they arrived at the metal conference room door.
Inside Pirelli sat
