NICK BURNS SAID. “I can see that Fontana hasn’t told you much about his family.” “We haven’t had a lot of time to get to know each other,” Sierra said, choosing her words cautiously. “Ours was what you might call a whirlwind courtship. As I recall, he said something about not having any family.” Nick exhaled wearily. “You could probably be married to him for fifty years and not hear anything about us, at least not from him.” They were sitting in the small conference room adjacent to the newsroom. The door was closed for privacy, but Sierra could see her colleagues through the windows. They all appeared to be hard at work, but she knew that you could hear a pin drop in the outer room. Everyone was straining so hard to eavesdrop it was a wonder people weren’t falling out of their chairs. The only one who appeared unconcerned was Elvis. He was in his balloon basket, floating toward the coffee-and-doughnuts table. She lowered her voice. “Maybe you should wait until Fontana is back in his office.
