Daniel took a last sip of the delicate glass coffee cup in front of him and savored the liquid. He let out sight. Sooner or later I’d get an irritating lesson on how those beans were picked at midnight on the top of the highest mountain in Afghanistan and roasted to perfection by blind monks or something. But not this time. He smiled warmly at me.
“You really can’t tell, can you?”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
“Yes. Yes you did. And here it is: you have an uncanny ability to see the cracks in each and every one. When I said you can read people and talk your way into any situation and out of any situation, I wasn’t joking. It’s something out of this world. This is something you can train yourself to do, obviously. Feds get that kind of training. For questioning, for finding suspects in a crowd…
