|
|
|
|
|
|
|
picious of everyone and everyth" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The doors shut with a muffled thump, cutting off the guard midstream. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"What do you usually do in a situation like this?" McCall asked. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
D.J. shrugged. "We don't get many jumpers in a city the size of Lakeview. But I've dealt with them before." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
D.J. didn't answer. She didn't like to remember her failures. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Anger coursed through D.J. This day wasn't getting any better, and McCall wasn't getting any easier to put up with. She looked at him, her irritation increasing when she saw the superior smile playing about his lips. "If you're so smart, why don't you try talking to him first? I'm not even supposed to be here." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"All right. If you insist." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The elevator doors slid open. D.J. made an elaborate bow, then swept her arm out in invitation. "By my guest." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
A group of men and women huddled outside an office down the hall revealed the direction of their quarry. D.J. flipped her badge open once more and followed an agitated woman to an open window. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"I came in to tell Mr. Packard I was going to lunch." Her hands shook as she spoke, and she clasped them together in front of her, the knuckles showing white under the pressure. "And he was out there. He won't answer any of us." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
McCall stepped forward. "Do you know if any- |
|
|
|
|
|