Shadowman reclined at his desk, feet propped on a pulled out drawer. He longed for a brandy. Instead he waited for an underling. Only checking his watch stopped his fingers from drumming.
"God," he murmured, straightening in his chair when he heard a knock. "Come in."
He watched George hauling a square object and his impatience vanished.
"Here it is, boss." He set the wrapped item on the desk.
"She didn't have a motion sensor so I had no trouble getting in. The car's a beauty, boss. You drive one of them BMWs too, right? I'd like to get my hands on that one. Black, I'd prefer. Leather interior."
Shadowman raised a hand. "Just shut up." Tearing the brown paper aside, he observed a picture. He blinked, but the item didn't look any different. Flowers. In some kind of needlework.
"Boss?"
