Chapter 8
The image of the crazy grimace that stretched across Lumbergh’s face lingered in Sean’s mind the entire trip up to Lakeland. So did the scowl on the mug of Norman Booth—the suspect on the chief ’s computer screen.
Sean knew Jessica’s regular schedule. At least he thought he did. On those days when he didn’t have a security job lined up, he’d head over to GSL in the afternoon when foot traffic was light, and get through the plasma-drawing process a bit faster. Jessica would always show up around one o’clock. He’d watch her from his bed if he happened to have a view of the clerical area. She’d walk in, never smiling, and hang her coat on a hook along the wall before beginning her duties.
Sean sat for some time in the parking lot, and by the time the digital clock that clung to h
