He sat in his office scowling as he was prone to scowl over paperwork. “Boyle.” “Why is it the numbers never tally the first time you do them? Why is that?” “I couldn’t say. Boyle, I’m sorry to ask but I need to go. My mother’s had a fire at the house.” “A fire?” He shoved up from his desk as if he’d rush off to put it out himself. “A kitchen fire, I think. It was hard getting anything out of her, as she was near hysterical. But I did get she’s not hurt, and didn’t burn the place down around her. Still, I don’t know how bad it all is, so—” “Go. Go on.” He rounded the desk, taking her arm, drawing her out of the office. “Let me know what’s what as soon as you can.” “I will. Thanks. I’ll do extra tomorrow to make up for it.” “Just go, for Christ’s sake.”
