“Like we’re at some Kiwanis breakfast.”

Claire watched the doors swing closed.

“He’s good at that.”

“Ray’s report is due to Mark at ten.”

“Then we’ve got an hour.”

At the door of the hearing room, Thomas turned, said something that made Arthur laugh, and went in.

Ray Miller clamped the beige plastic faceplate in the bench vise under the overhead halogen lamp.

Daniel Harris stood two feet back, his weight on his rear heel, watching the door of the basement lab.