Under the RocksJason Riddle stood at the window a for very long time, staring out at the Rappahannock as it flowed in the night, timeless and heavy and dark. The window reflected the scene behind him perfectly: three men holding drinks, watching him, waiting for him to turn around. One, middle-aged, bald, a significant paunch pushing out over his belt, relaxed on an expensive couch, his arms spread out over the cushions. Another, middle-aged, too, but wiry and muscular, coiled in the doorway. The third, a young man with long hair and the beginning of a scruffy Van Dyke on his chin, crossed his legs on the love seat. Riddle fingered the lip of his cup. He c****d his head and held completely still for a moment. One of the men coughed politely and Riddle shushed him and leaned closer to the g
