8
Connor sat on the couch in Randall’s living room and stared at Joanna with perplexed eyes. He’d come alone, which in a way was a relief; it had been hard enough to explain the situation to the Wilcox primus without having his wife listening to every word as well.
“I still don’t really see how you can think foul play was involved here,” Connor said slowly, and Joanna gave a helpless shrug.
“I know it sounds crazy. But this just isn’t like Randall Lenz.”
For a moment, Connor didn’t reply. Then he said, his tone almost too gentle, “You know him that well?”
Of course she didn’t. She’d started to get to know him…had begun to get a glimpse of the man behind the impassive face he showed to the world.
But then he’d disappeared.
“I really don’t think he’d bug out like this,” she said. “Any
