The light turned green, and I drove straight on toward the office, because a man who doesn’t show up looks like a man with something to hide.

The lobby smelled like burnt espresso and carpet shampoo.

Nina stood up behind the reception desk before I had my badge out.

“Don’t,” she said.

She looked toward the glass room, then at me, then clicked her ballpoint three times fast.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t go in there.

He’s been in the conference room since eight-forty.