CHAPTER TWENTY
It was a long space between the exit and the stage. Neither Dakota nor Marcus spoke as they hastened forward. Sometimes, even in their line of work, they just needed a few moments to process.
Dakota's one hand had balled into a fist at her side out of pure instinct. But as much as she wished for it, there was nothing for her to punch. She shot a look towards her partner.
Marcus's jaw was clenched, his hands tight at his sides as he walked stiff-legged around the table covered in glass trinkets and approached their witnesses.
Two men looked like they had color coordinated their outfits. Both wore green sweaters and bright yellow pants. One of them was bald, with glasses, while the other had an inch-tall mohawk. They were both shifting uncomfortably, their eyes ringed red.
