His fingers trembled slightly as he reached up and silently pushed his heavy gold signet ring back onto his index finger.

I left Arthur standing by the glass elevators and walked down the street toward the light rail without turning around.

By two o’clock in the afternoon, I was sitting at a small laminate table near gate C12 in the Portland airport terminal.

The tall window beside my seat looked out over the damp tarmac, where two ramp workers in yellow rain jackets were loading luggage onto a twin-engine commuter plane.

I bought a paper cup of dark drip coffee from a corner stand and set my leather briefcase on the empty plastic chair beside me.