“Thank you, Ms. Parker. You can leave for the day.” Vince lounged against his desk, his shirt sleeves rolled up and his arms folded across his chest.
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell Ms. DiNois she can leave also, would you please?” Wills, his back stiff with tension, stood looking out the wall of windows. The view wasn’t bad if you liked looking at the darkened windows of the building across the street.
“Yes, sir. Have a good weekend, Mr. Vincent, Mr. Matheson.” She closed the door behind her.
No one spoke. I used the excuse of looking around to give myself some time to gather my thoughts. There was a potted plant in one corner and a framed movie poster on a wall with the words, “Who is Keyser Söze?” beneath the semicircle of men who stood in poses running the gamut from indifferent to mocking to te
