She wanted him gone. Only three of them were manned, one by a massive uniformed cop talkingon the phone, the other two by men in plain-clothes, eating sandwicheswhile they tackled paperwork. Well, Mitch Holt had already looked inside his van andhadn't found anything. And they like to play with string.
Her breath hitched in herthroat and she scowled. The staples had been replaced. Or at least that was Joy's excuse. Who's your source, Paige? You know I can't divulge that information.
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