There’s Pendelton, out at the strip mall.

His building is Whitmore concrete, but he answers his own phone.”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Nine o’clock.

Bring the notebook.

Leave the temper in the truck.”

Security had an office off the main lobby, beside the gift shop, and the chief, Wade Tolliver, was eating a late lunch off a paper plate.

He set it down, wiped his hands, and let me talk all the way through.