Lots of shadows and silence and plenty of room for the imagination. I knew I was alone, since mine was the only car in the parking lot, so I wasn't worried about being caught. Well, I was a little worried, but I planned to do my dirty work and be back home before the early risers showed up for the day. I would have been more worried about Adam Tiddle making an appearance, but Dougie's death had probably removed that possibility. I sat in Missy's chair and opened her kneehole drawer. Pens, pencils, erasers, tape, spare change, her notary seal and stamp in their little black pouch. Nothing incriminating there. I moved to the first of the bigger drawers on the left. It was filled to near capacity with manila file folders. Missy had labeled some of them in obscure legalese like RFPs and Form C Rogs and Sub. D.T., and those I interpreted and passed over, concentrating instead on the blank tabs. One by one, I pulled those files out and flipped them open, finding only that Missy had surprisingly inadequate organizational skills.
