Karen Wright stood next to thecrib with Lily perched on one hip. Megan went to him, welcoming his kiss, pressing her body into his. The curtains gaped, offering a glimpse of a tinshower stall. He picked it up gingerly, pinching the wire spine between left thumb andforefinger, lifting the opposite edge with the Lip of his rightforefinger.
Only three of them were manned, one by a massive uniformed cop talkingon the phone, the other two by men in plain-clothes, eating sandwicheswhile they tackled paperwork. They faced each other like a pair of gunslingers,and the tension in the air was as thick as the smell of old DutchMasters cigars. Even now, as she acquired them unwillingly, she wielded them clumsily,uncertainty. Megan cut into her meat loaf and thought the aroma ofherbs and spices might just induce her to fall face-first on her plateand inhale everything on it.
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