I glanced at Frank and nodded. We knew how to play this game. Approaching the bed with me coming around to stand beside Pierce while Frank went around to glower over Caruso. The younger jurist’s complexion drained to that of a pasty whiteness as Frank stepped up to him. In the middle of the bed and partially buried underneath a pile of oversized pillows and bedding was Jocelyn Stewart. She was wearing silk pajamas. Baby blue in color. Her face, quite attractive, was framed in a mass of curly brown hair on the pillow. On her forehead was a damp washcloth and she had this dreamy, faraway look which told us she was indeed full of drugs. Half turning, I looked at Pierce in mocking admiration and nodded. There was no way we were going to get an iota of information out of this woman.
So why try
