With the case file tucked under his arm, Paul weaved through the desks, heading toward the station entrance with Janey following close behind. Not far from the door, he spotted the officer who’d cornered him in the parking lot. The guy was talking to another patrolman, one Paul had worked with for years.
“You okay?” Janey asked. “Not getting sick again on me, are you?”
Paul opened the door, and ambled out into the parking lot toward his vehicle. “You wouldn’t get that lucky, Davis. Come on, we’ve got a case to solve.”
They were leaving their second stop—which failed to yield any new information—when his cell phone rang. “Daniels.”
“Hey. It’s Megan.”
He glanced down at his watch, and sure enough over two hours had passed since he’d dropped her off at the airport. “How was your flight?”
