Chapter 43The War Room reminded Falcone of an actual center for strategic planning. The overhead fluorescents hummed. There was an overall grey-feel to the room. The chalkboard was off, the laptops had screensavers slowly bouncing about on the monitors. The smell of coffee, hot dogs, mustard, and onions filled the room, despite having lunch hours ago. Sanchez and Clarke drew the line between the cases, so they spearheaded the meeting. Lieutenant Garcia sat between Richards and Falcone at the eight-foot table in the center room.
Clarke sat on the edge of a desk, a manila folder in one hand.
Sanchez stood before the group, and without preamble said, “A well-to-do family went on vacation. They made the terrible mistake of broadcasting travel plans all over social media.”
“Even had a countd
