Grant had not spoken to me since the funeral, because we had both said unforgivable things in the worst week of our lives.
It took him eleven minutes to cross the driveway and fourteen seconds to decide that the woman who had married his little brother was telling the truth.
He looked at the torn drawing on the desk.
Miró al detective Reeves.
Miró al Dr.
Vale a través de la puerta del estudio y dijo una frase.
"Martin.
¿Dónde están los libros?"
¿Dr.
Vale no contestó.
Esa fue la respuesta.
Grant sacó su teléfono e hizo una llamada que no esperaba.
"Federal,"
he said, when I stared at him.
"This crosses state lines.
The pharmacy's in Ohio.
The pill's in your hand, and somebody just lied to a state trooper.
¿Quieres que esto se haga bien, o quieres que se haga rápido?
"Cierto"
He dicho.
