Chapter SixAgent Reese remains seated calmly. Detective Sharpe swiftly closes the distance between us. Just as he reaches my side, the figure moves. A hand is lifted out from inside his pocket, and he waves. It's a familiar wave, one I have seen before. The distinct motion I had witnessed at Frenchie's is being repeated. The intense grin I had seen on Vincent's face flashes in my memory. The notion is like a still frame picture of him slapping me in the face. A shockwave hits me, igniting my bones.
“It's Vincent,” I tell the detective.
“How can you tell?”
“I know that wave.”
Just as the words leave my mouth, Vincent reaches in his pocket to pull something out. The detective carefully places a hand on the pistol that is holstered under his jacket. He's ready to quick draw if necessary.
