THEO
I preferred not to get chatty with my clients. Making small talk was not a part of my job description. I was here in a security capacity, not to
entertain my clients with discussions about the weather.
Nevertheless, here I was. Stuck in the district attorney’s office, shaking his hand.
His sweaty, beefy hand.
We were in his stuffy corner office. Books and awards and boxes full of important files scattered everywhere. The curtains were closed even though I’d given the state senator permission to open them again. Now that his radical stalker was behind bars, the chances he’d be shot through his windows were slim.
Unlikely, but never zero.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Duncan said with a practiced smile.
I nodded curtly. “All in a day’s work, sir.”
The man waved a dismissive hand.
