Aileen lowered herself to Patricia’s eye level. ‘Who?’
She shook her head. ‘Leave before your life is under threat too.’
Callan swiped a hand over his forehead. The air conditioning droning above his head had given him a nagging headache.
In the last few hours, he’d put a small dent in the ever-growing papers scattered in his office.
Callan had found a bureau of drawers buried in one corner of his office, under files and heaps of loose papers.
Taking Aileen’s advice, he’d brought out a stapler and punch and done his best imitation of her, carefully straightening the papers and arranging them in categories.
If she saw him now, sat on the floor filing, he bet she’d get a kick.
Aileen…
His heart clenched.
No, it was good riddance. She hadn’t contacted him, except for those brief phon
