Four-fifteen. The old buzzard was probably taking a break at Mario’s coffee and doughnut shop. Dalton hoped so. It would be easier for Frank to talk about anything he might have found outside of the office. As the phone rang, Dalton’s thoughts went back to Cassie and the therapy session. Some cooling off time away from her had cleared his head some and he realized now that she couldn’t have known she’d hit on his and Linda’s main problem. Cassie might have guessed from the last session or from parts of their private conversations, but the earnestness in her eyes made him think her words were more from the heart, possibly from her own experience. “Frank here.” He adjusted the phone to his mouth. “It’s me. Find out anything?” “Other than the fact that Higgins is so pissed at you he’s probably arranging to transfer you to Outer Mongolia?” “Screw Higgins.” Dalton rubbed his tired eyes. “What did you find out?” “Simone Harding has a list of aliases a mile long.
