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Patrick is waiting when I arrive at our satellite office in Wilton Dressed in his usual faded jeans and a ht-brown hair is a messy bedhead, and if he didn’t have his son Lane at the house, I’d guess he ca with Elaine

Hell, he probably did that anyway Those two have been known to leave a house full of dinner guests for a quickie in the bathroom

Standing in our small office space, I hold the fax and read the typed letter It’s on nondescript, white paper in a basic, serif font Nothing distinguishes it Nothing gives us a clue as to who ht have sent it

The e is short and clear:

Ms Durango:

I know about your involve to you, containing your DNA, is in raphs

Lowering the sheet, I glance up at raphs?”

He hands over cheap prints showing Sloan’s corpse frole The iradually move in closer, fra in his pocket

My jaw clenches “Her fucking underwear”

Patrick’s bicep flexes as he bends his elbow, pulling a fist to his chest “We forgot he had it”

I also know about your record and the child in Myrtle Beach If you want her to remain safe, you’ll do as I say

My next letter will contain instructions Tell anyone, and you can kiss your baby goodbye

Signed,

A Friend

“A friend? Is that a fucking joke?” I’h the wall “What the fuck do they want?”