what?” “I’m the bouncer at the Grunt. Mr. Quentin and Ms. Davis were there last

night. Ms. Davis became…ill. Mr. Quentin had to leave and he asked me to drive

her home. And I did. Safe and sound.” “The Grunt closes at two. It’s a two-hour

drive from there to here.

 

It’s eight o’clock in the morning. What happened to the other four hours?” “We

didn’t leave right at two. She was still indisposed. We left around four. And we

stopped for breakfast at the IHOP, at her request. We took our time. She seemed

to be in no rush. And I’d worked all night. I was tired, so I wasn’t trying to

break any land speed records.” He pointed toward the door Davis had entered.

“Just ask her if you don’t believe me.” “What’s going on?” They all turned to

see Davis’s head poking out of what Rogers knew was her bedroom window.

 

The security man looked up. “Just checking to make sure everything is all right,

Ms. Davis.” “Everything is all right. He drove me home. I wasn’t feeling well.

 

Okay? He works at the Grunt.” “Yes ma’am. Thank you, that’s all we needed to

know.” The man turned back to Rogers. “Well, thank you for getting her home

safely,” he said smoothly, his demeanor now friendly, though Rogers saw his

finger flick toward the round selector of his MP, so his friendliness was purely

for Davis’s benefit and the flick was for his benefit. “You’re very welcome,”

Rogers said. “I’ll be heading on now. I could use some sleep.” Davis called down

from the window, “Paul, you can crash here for a few hours. It’s probably not

safe for you to drive right now.” She added with an impish smile, “You must be

exhausted after our little detour.” Rogers glanced at the security man and could