CHAPTER 11
LYLE BARELY SPOKE on the way back from Redding’s Gap. I didn’t care, just as long as he refrained from throwing up in the helicopter. His greenish tinge was kind of concerning, and the thing was a b***h to detail. Halfway to Riverley, angry clouds gathered above us and it began drizzling, turning a black day even darker.
I spent the trip thinking, and by the time we landed, one thing was clear—whatever White wanted, I wasn’t leaving Lyle to handle the legal aspects of this mess. He needed help, and he needed it badly.
I left the hapless lawyer slumped over the breakfast bar, staring into a cup of coffee as if it held the answers to life, and went to look for Emmy. I found her in the gym, running on a treadmill where, according to the display, she’d been for the last two hours
