Katrina asked softly.The cab driver had certainly heard that before from airport-returning passengers. He waited for the response.“We’re doing okay. Even after covering the airfares, we’ve still got almost… ,” McCauley caught the driver’s interest in the view mirror, “…enough.” He whispered seventy-five hundred into her ear. “Plus, I might be able to get another ATM card from the bank, too,” he hoped more than believed.“I wouldn’t count on it.”She instinctively looked over her shoulder to see if they were being followed. Not here. Not yet.Minutes later they were in McCauley’s office. “Welcome to home away from home,” he said opening the door.“Fit for a professor,” Katrina observed. She walked in. “Bigger than mine.” A few books caught her eye. Some she had, some she didn’t. There were fossils, all of which she could identify, a few awards and citations, and stacks of magazines.She took a seat on a worn fabric couch under a window and paged through an old issue of Scientific American while Quinn listened to his phone messages.
