ALONE IN my office, I stroked Pansy's soft fur the way the New Age lunatics rub crystals. Getting apart from myself, wrapping what was left in my own fear. Letting the core speak to me.
Being the answer.
"Nobody knows where Wesley's going, but everybody knows where he's been," the Prof said.
I lit a smoke, replaying every square inch of the chameleon's apartment. Everything I'd seen. Waiting for it to kick in. It would come. Reba knew.