opened. An older man in a pristine t

ored the filth around him. He walked straig

ur said, his voice

reedy smiles, trying to shake Arthur's hand. Two massive bod

r door. She turned around and stared dead

Catherine said. Her voice was low,

ugh. "It's in the bank vault, swee

anvas backpack. She pulled out a t

Jenna hid." "These are the offshore routing numbers for Jenna's tax fraud over the last three years," Catherine said, her

ind Brenda, screaming that

ge. She raised her hand and swung

ght Brenda's wrist in mid-air. Her thumb pressed br

d scream. The bones in her w

eyes tracked Catherine's movement. A flicker of su

atherine's eyes and knew she was not bluffing.

tching a yellowed parchment document. H

father's signature. It was authentic. She folded it car

e tax documents into tiny shreds and let

o had tormented her for years, Cather

red door open. She slid in

the screaming from the trailer park. The in

ay, speeding toward t

ck, leather-bound b

vioral protocols,

printed in bold red ink: Absolutely no perfumes,

eracusis and olfactory sensitivity. Classic sym

e private underground garage of a heavily

shot them directl

. Everything was black, white, and steel. It looked

allway and stopped in front

mood today," Arthur warne

rabbed the cold metal handle a

s the thick wool carpet. A man sat with his back to her,