LANCE DIXON
“So, what’s up? How’s the search man?” Denver tapped my shoulders as he asked me to dine with him tonight.
I took a deep breath. “Can we smoke here?”
He laughs. “I’m afraid that we can’t. This is a restaurant, Lance. We can do that later.”
I nodded.
“I hope you don’t mind that I ordered for you already,” he said in a wry tone.
“Nah, I don’t mind, man,” I pulled out a chair and sat there.
“Problem?”
“I have a big problem, honestly.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Don’t tell me that you want to give up Larissa’s case now?”
I never thought of that. But I won’t also deny that this is the most challenging case I’ve encountered.
“I don’t know who’s the real culprit, Denver,” I said honestly,
He just looked at me. “There’s a reason why we are asking for your service here,
