CHAPTER NINE
The flight was mostly a blur; the exhaustion from her trip, and the help of two miniature whiskeys, had knocked her right out. Now, as Ilse exited the large glass sliding doors, crossed the terminal, and moved out into the parking lot, she felt like she was waking from a bad dream, fleeing to consciousness once more.
Parked next to one of the handicapped spots, she spotted a tinted window, black sedan. Most notably, a man sat on the hood of the car, his long legs crossed beneath him, serving as a tray for the manila folder opened against his dusty jeans. The man had a baseball cap, low over his features, but as she approached, his head turned, and his green eyes met hers, watching as she drew nearer.
"Doc," he said, nodding in greeting. For a moment, she almost thought he w
