Five
His elbows propped on a littered desk, Matt rubbed his weary eyes with the heels of his hands. He didn’t try to hold back a sound that was half sigh, half groan. It was long after midnight, long after the retreat of the summer sun. Behind him the mountains were hidden, the city at their base a myriad of patterned lights. He dumped another cup of coffee down his throat, but despite the rat-a-tat of his heart, he got no lift in spirits or energy.
After the setback at the hotel, Matt had returned to the office determined to be optimistic. Only Alice had expressed doubt in a speedy resolution.
Riggs was derisive when she voiced it. “Of course we’ll find her. We’re the Marshals, Alice. She’s a romance writer. No contest.” Hours later, his face lined with exhaustion, Riggs had obviously
