She was wearing a beige raincoat and a colorful scarf covering her short brown hair. Her cheeks were rosy from contact with the cold outside. I stood there looking and waiting and not saying a word. I was suddenly all choked up inside. Me. The guy who was going to scare the pants off Wompler and get those pictures and who was going to do a slower, more thorough job than the police on Puggie and Five O’Clock.
Steffy placed her hands on my shoulders and held me off at arm’s length. “For a guy who’s been in bed a few days, you’re looking great.”
“I don’t know how I feel yet. It’s up to you.”
“Silly. Kiss me and find out.”
We tried it there in the waiting room, but there were too many people watching. We swung a quarter-turn in the revolving door and tried it again. This worked fine until
