Jesus. These young guys. I shook my head and pointed to a chair.
He took it, flinching as he sat down, and I recalled hearing Sweetcheeks’s voice last night when I’d called him. So he’d let the rent boy f**k him? I raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t offer an explanation, and I nodded in satisfaction.
“How was the trip to Boston?” I maximized the file on Senator Franklin’s intern, pulled up Diane Coyne’s image, and clicked on print.
“Uneventful, sir. I met with the hacker, and he’s been taken out of the equation.”
“You’d said something similar in your voice message yesterday.” I stopped what I was doing and turned my head to give him a look. “Are you deliberately being coy with me?”
He turned pale, shook his head, and kept his mouth shut.
“Who’s your trainer, Matheson?”
He looked start
