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“Esperanza is waiting for you,” Taft, son of a grown man Win called Taffy, said.
Taft led Myron into the conference room. Esperanza stood by the window and stared out. “Should I have warned you about Sadie’s press conference?”
Myron shrugged. “Not a big deal.”
“Sadie wanted to handle it this way.”
“I get it.”
“She’s in the right, you know.”
“I do.”
“She’s on her way back now. She wants to be there when they let Greg out.”
“She knows how to get her face on television.”
“For all the right reasons,” Esperanza said.
“I know. And I agree.”
“We are doing good work here.”
“I know that too.”
“But I’m not sure it’s for me.”
Myron nodded slowly. Esperanza finally turned to him to gauge his reaction. Myron tried to keep his face neutral.
“How’s business upstairs?” Esperanza asked.
“Shitty,” Myron said.
“But you still want me back?”
“I do. We can starve together.”
Esperanza smiled. She crossed the room and kissed Myron gently on the cheek. “I miss being around you every day.”
“Same.”
“And we can’t forget Big Cyndi.”
“No matter how hard we try,” Myron said. “When do you want to start?”
“Let’s table that for now,” she said. “So what’s up?”
“Something about this serial killer isn’t adding up,” Myron said.
“I thought Sadie did a pretty good job of explaining it all.”
“She did. But no one can explain why Greg is the only connection to two of the cases.”
“You have a theory?”
“Just a simple one: The killer is connected to him.”
“Or out to get him.”
