CHAPTER 55
Once more, Steadman was behind the wheel of the van, steering toward the warehouse district and certain danger. His gut clenched into a tight knot as he thought about the letter he’d written to Vivi that afternoon. In case things didn’t go well.
The faint smell of motor oil and hot electrical equipment hung in the atmosphere and he adjusted the vent, letting the cool night air flow over him, calming and bracing all at once. He sucked on a peppermint. Jamieson had claimed it might settle his roiling stomach, but so far all it had done was freshen his breath. At least there was that.
He drove slow, careful to obey every traffic convention, giving no cause for anyone to notice the van, hoping to set up a pattern of successful execution for the evening’s program. He went over the
