CHAPTER : 10Fish Finlay stood in the doorway, punch drunk, trying to absorb the accumulation of shocks Jennifer Linton had produced with no intent to shock and with a simple sanity and quiet logic that was the most confounding shock of all. That she’d recognized him was the least. He’d been aware of her basic acceptance of him ever since Polly Randolph had left their table. Pretense, if any, had been a purely surface gesture, with no attempt to deny that each knew perfectly well what everything was all about.
But the locks. . . .
Did you think I wouldn’t notice all the locks you had put on my door and windows?
Caxson Reeves, of course. Reeves had been six jumps ahead of him all the way, letting him maunder around the edges, picking up what he could, while he was taking positive action b
