Page 28 of Hidden

I know because I’ve had that same smile on my lips a few times. The moment you hit something you’ve been hunting for, that satisfaction is the best.

"You know there's a Starbucks on the ground floor."

Mason drops into the chair across from me with the energy of someone who’s been at the gym for too long and would rather spend it on something else.

He sets his coffee down on the table, pulls off his jacket, drapes it over the back of the chair, and opens his mouth to continue whatever he was saying.

"Did you read the Harrington brief yet because I have thoughts and most of them are complaints…"

"Mm."

"…specifically about the third section which reads like it was written by someone who’s never met a human being…"

"Right."

"…and I think Declan had a hand in it which would explain the complete absence of anything resembling logic…"

"Yeah."

A pause.

"Miles."

"Mm."

"What are you looking at?" Mason snaps his fingers to get me to look at him.

I say nothing at first, then I see Mason is about to say something else, so I get in there first. "Nothing."

He turns in his chair, takes in the second floor, the stacks, and the window tables below us. It takes him approximately three seconds to locate Sadie, with her yellow camera strap, clearly, she likes the color yellow, which I’ll change. Soon she’ll like the color purple. Just give it some time.

He turns back to face me and says nothing for a moment that goes on slightly too long for Mason.

"Hm," he says.

"Don't." I already know he’s going to be annoying about this.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were about to."

"I was going to ask about the Harrington brief." He picks up his coffee, takes a long sip. "She's the one from the party. You know I’ve already helped you there. No one will ask her out, make the move."

"I don't know who you mean."

“You disappeared for forty minutes last night and came back with no explanation. I'm not a detective, but I do have eyes."

"The brief, Mason." I try to change the subject, but Mason can be a dog with a bone, it’s not easy to take his mind away from something he knows will annoy someone else.

"She's got a camera."

"I noticed."

"Of course you did." He opens the Harrington document on his laptop, scrolling it and then says. "She any good?"

"Probably," I say.

Mason makes a sound that isn't quite a laugh, then goes back to the brief. He starts typing something with more force than the document warrants, I wonder what pissed him off. “I’m sure if I open your laptop, I’ll be able to see.” He keeps his eyes on the screen, and I open my laptop.