Speeding through the marsh with the window down beside her seemed to drive the image of Eleanor Odom’s tongue, swollen and purple, her hands clutching at her throat, far from her mind. The night was cooling down a little and the sky was gently slipping into Hailey’s favorite color, the deep, deep indigo blue just before it turned black. The sky seemed to have a lit projector glowing behind the blue. The stars hadn’t yet shown themselves and the green marsh seemed to merge into the sky. “So, we’ll have dinner, but I just radioed for an APB on Zilenski. He’s in the street, but I can round him up in the morning and feel him out. Okay?” “That sounds good,” Finch piped in from the back seat. “I don’t have the strength to keep on. I need those fried shrimp and those cheese grits.” “So, Hailey. Every time I try to take you to eat, something goes sideways.” Billings kept his eyes on the road ahead of him as he talked. “I don’t mind. I actually like talking about cases at dinner.”
