Chapter Fourteen
“It’s not that I don’t like him, Leah, I just don’t know him. And I certainly don’t trust him.” We had returned to Leah’s SUV and were perusing our list of locations to scout for Vargas.
“That makes two of us, sister.”
“No, I’m pretty sure you just don’t like him.”
Leah absently chewed her thumbnail. “Probably true. Guy doesn’t give off a warm and fuzzy vibe.”
“He’s not a puppy, Leah.”
“Not even close. He’s too shifty for puppydom.” I motioned for her to continue, having drawn a similar conclusion. “His body language is closed off—crossed arms, the way he positioned himself when he talked to us and his intermittent use of eye contact.”
“At least he made eye contact,” I commented.
“Yeah, but only when he wanted to get his point across, when he wanted to make sure we
