“I know what everybody in this county does.” He stood.

“Nine o’clock.

I’m not asking twice.”

Then he was gone toward the parking deck, and not one dollar of his money was in my hand.

Elena was already in the consultation room when I got there, her notebook square to the edge of the table, her pen resting on the cover.

“Start with the coffee,” she said.

“She brought me decaf and told me Marcus is under pressure and it comes out sideways at whoever’s nearest.”

“People say that.” She wrote it down.