TIMESICK I’ve got to sleep,” she said to Burton, in the kitchen, after Corbell had gone with the big man who’d brought in a golf umbrella to walk him back to his car. She was having trouble keeping her eyes open. “You think Netherton can handle Corbell?” “Lowbeer and the others can tell him what to say.” “Who’s that?” “Conner’s met her. I think we’re actually working for her, but getting paid Lev’s money. Or Lev’s money here, as much as it’s his. Damn. I’m about to fall over.” “Okay,” he said, squeezed her shoulder, put on his jacket, and went out. The rain had stopped. She put out the kitchen light, went through the living room to check there was no light showing under her mother’s door, then up the stairs. They’d seldom been as steep. Janice was in her room, cross-legged on the bed with half a dozen Geographics. “Kills me,” Janice said, looking up, “national parks before they privatized. Asshole gone?” “Burton too,” Flynne said, touching her own wrist and then all four pockets of her jeans before she remembered her phone was in the trailer.
