Pearl was stretched out next to him, while Sarge was on the club chair. Wayne sat at the dining room table, several stacks of paper in front of him. “You have your lawyer look at these?” his assistant asked. “Twice.” “Then why am I reading them?” “You’ll bug me about them if I don’t let you,” Quinn said easily as he deleted an email. “You don’t trust my lawyer.” “No one trusts lawyers.” “What if she’s former military?” Wayne didn’t bother looking up. “She’s not.” Quinn’s cell rang. He looked at the screen and saw a familiar album cover pop up. “You check the news this morning?” That got Wayne’s attention. “Sure. Nothing about our crew. Why? What’s happened?” “Nothing yet. Just want to know before I answer the call.”
