Then she put it back down.

 

But Puller had seen enough.

 

He opened his eyes and swore under his breath.

 

He hadn’t asked the obvious follow-up question because he didn’t think it was

relevant and he was also trying to be tactful.

 

Well, the hell with tactful now. “Knox? Knox!” He rose, gripped her shoulder,

and gently nudged her. “Hey, wake up. I might have something.” She stirred on

the bed, mumbled something, and then sat straight up and looked at him crossly.

“What?” He said, “Why would one woman know the history of another woman?” She

rubbed her face and then gave him an even crosser look. “I don’t even understand

the question.” He grabbed his laptop and sat next to her. “Here are my notes on

a conversation I had with someone. Read through them.” Knox yawned, stretched,

and refocused. She read down the page and scrolled to the next. “Okay,” she

said. “That is a little unusual. I mean, she said they talked, but some of these

things, at least it seems to me, the woman did her own research. I mean, they

aren’t the sorts of things that would come up in normal conversation, certainly

not between two women.” “She said my parents and she and her husband frequently

socially interacted. And that my mother helped them through their issues.

 

She spoke reverently about her.” “But she also said that your mother sort of