e doors of the Hold

r sway. Hale stepped inside, his boots tracking mud onto the priceless Persian rug.

n the hall sto

ife, Meredith, stood beside him, holding a champagne flute. They both star

pled to the floor. She collapsed into a shivering ball, tuck

ng in disgust. "What the hell is this?

ers. "The smell. Reginald, call security.

g with silent sobs. But behind her arms,

And Meredith's necklace is last season's Cartier. Th

reading old fashion magazines in the sanitarium's library. The nurses tho

r as a bell. It was a cold, analytical broadcast, completely at od

s long as I'm breathing, my fifteen percent is u

shing over him. It was as if two different signals were broadcasting from the same source. He had to

er at Cilla. "She's a disgrace! A stain on the

m. It echoed off the high ceilings. Before anyone coul

just threw her filthy, mud

over his own feet, and crashed into the antique sofa. His arm hit the coffee ta

dropping her champagne flute. Th

her ears, rocking back and forth, staring blankly at the wall. B

ld bastard. That's

ered deep in his cold eyes. He subtly adjusted his collar, a bare

in with two security guards.

coat. He walked over to the sputtering

id, his voice flat.

and scribbled his name

rned on his heel and hea

sed the threshold, a

wa

ound rang out from the top of the curved stai