“Mr. Parker was not happy when I called him,” Felan said, strolling into the dining room. Then he spied the food and went to make a sandwich.
“Are you going to leave us hanging?” Nina asked tartly.
“What? Oh, no,” Felan replied after taking a bite. “As I said, he wasn’t happy, but he did come down to the station. Damn, he’s good.” He handed Tonio a sheaf of papers he’d rolled up and stuck in his back pocket.
Pushing aside his empty plate, Tonio spread them out. They were quick sketches that showed the basics of each of the rooms Felan had picked out of the four women’s thoughts.
One was what the women had called the main room. It appeared to be exactly that, a large room with two sofas and some armchairs, as well as a dining table surrounded by six straight-backed chairs. There were do
