Chapter 41

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It was in the early hours of Sunday morning by the time I arrived home from that informative visit to the Division. My flight had been cancelled at the last minute, but I’d managed to find transport on a private jet, courtesy of an old friend of Jefferson Sebring. It paid to have an uncle who had been something of a rogue in his younger years.

Now, however, I was feeling the effects of crossing too many time zones in too short a span of time.

Water. Yes, that might help, and I went into the kitchen of my town house, took a bottle of Evian from the refrigerator, and gulped it down.

The woman who came in a few times a week to clean also saw to it that the pantry and freezer were kept well stocked, and a late-night snack seemed like a good idea too, but I’d barely finished the water before even heating something in the microwave was suddenly beyond my resources.