to start. But it’s just going to be me from now on.” “Puller!” He opened the car

door, took out his duffel, popped the trunk, grabbed his investigation bag,

hoisted them over his shoulders, and leaned back into the open car door.

“Thanks, Knox. I owe you.” “John, please don’t do this.” He pushed the car door

closed with his knee and set off down the sidewalk.

 

Chapter 39

 

ROGERS ASSUMED HIS post outside where the line was already fifty deep. The IDs

came out and his work began.

 

Two hours later the stretch limo arrived and out popped Josh Quentin and what

looked to be the very same entourage. With one significant addition.

 

Suzanne Davis was there in a tight mini and crop top. He noted that her bare

shoulders and arms were toned. She had a tat of a dragon on her right triceps.

She had a plastic cup in hand. Rogers doubted it contained soda.

 

She didn’t seem to be mourning the passing of poor Chris Ballard, he observed.

Neither did the smiling Quentin. “Paul, right?” said Quentin as they approached.

 

Rogers nodded. “You can go right in with your group, Mr.

 

Quentin.” The young man slipped a hundred-dollar bill into Rogers’s hand and

clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man.” “Thank you, sir.” Quentin squeezed