“That was the first sign. He checked his watch, just to be sure. He was twenty minutes early. Invisible hackles lifted on the back of his neck, prickling painfully. Moving casually, he stepped into the office area and walked around the island of battered tin desks pushed together in the center of the room. “Hello?” Silence. Then, faintly, keyboard clicks from the sergeant’s office. Sergeant Borelli at his post on a Tuesday afternoon? Steve stopped at the deserted desks. Ghost...ly cold fingers were playing a blaring tune up and down his spine now. There was a tiny squeak, one he knew well, the sound of standard issue rubber-soled boots on the faded institutional green linoleum. He whirled, to find Chris Goonewardene behind him. The constable leaned against the desk next to him. It conveniently blocked off Steve’s retreat. Intentional? “Borelli’s looking for you,”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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