But how had he found out the WBIS and Huntingdon were connected? I looked into Mr. Vincent’s eyes and knew whoever had leaked that information was a dead man.
I thought of Director Sperling. Then again, perhaps he already was.
And Mr. Vincent was waiting for me to continue.
“The Senator is having her flown home tomorrow. She’s at her apartment now packing.”
“Good work.” Mr. Vincent regarded me contemplatively, examining the jeans, sweatshirt, and running shoes, and my spiked hair, but said nothing about it. He noticed I was chewing my lip. “Problem, Matheson?”
“No, sir.” I flushed. I’d been wondering if there was a possibility of spending the night in Theo’s bed.
“Take the rest of the night off.”
“Sir?”