“Danny,” she said, “I want to run something by you.” I nodded. Her voice held a rare hesitancy. “Listen,” she said. “You know that by now we’ve run every background check in the world on you.” “Don’t remind me.” “So, we know about your family, friends. That riverfront bar you hang out at. And about Noah Frye.” I leaned up now, so that we were both propped up on an elbow, facing each other. The hotel room seemed cooler. “Casey, where’s this going?” She frowned. “Hey, I know he’s your friend—maybe your best friend. He’s also schizophrenic. With a sheet. Vagrancy, drug busts, drunk and disorderly.” “That was a long time ago. Besides…” “Look at Kevin’s death. Brutal, savage. Like somebody out of his head. And damn personal.” I kept my voice light. “You’re straying out of your field, counselor.” “Yeah? What about the murder weapon turning up in your office…? That first warning.” “I told you, Kevin had probably taken the key.”
