“Baldwin thought she should have been called bulldog—her tenacity was one of the things that he was most impressed with when he hired her. So when she said, “Hey, boss. Come take a look at this,” with an indefinable note of curiosity in her voice, he dropped his files and mentally crossed his fingers. Baldwin stretched and stood, shaking away the cobwebs. He’d been staring at evidence files for the better part of two hours and his head was aching with all the tiny print. He didn’t need glasses, ...not yet anyway, but the words were swimming before his eyes, refracting in the harsh fluorescent light of the conference room. Sparrow couldn’t have felt much better. She’d been cruising the online world for nearly twenty hours. Her computer screen was a mess, with open windows of every conceivable size, shape and color. She clicked one of the windows on the top left, made it fill the screen. It was an obituary notice from The Washington Post, dated January 12, 2004. A small face smiled sadly at him, a little girl, maybe eight, nine years old.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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