Chapter 11It was midmorning when Angel got out of the car and stood at the same side door he had been sent out of a little over twenty-four hours ago. The same man who had taken him to Dansinger yesterday opened it and without looking at him said, “Come with me.”
Tired from having been unable to sleep on the plane, confused and wondering what the hell he had been involved in, Angel was led once more to the office of the Chief and sent right in. From behind his elegant mahogany desk, the man smiled at him.
“Good morning, Button. How was your little holiday?”
“It wasn’t a holiday. I’m tired and starving,” Angel said, sitting in the chair opposite Dansinger. And confused and feeling used and soiled from the whole filthy experience. “I need to go home and sleep.”
“This isn’t a bloody nurse
