The church smelled of sage and urine. Beer cans and magazines dotted the concrete floor, filthy from the sand blown through the broken walls, and faded by time. Pike guessed the urine smell was left by animals. The man with the lank hair was standing beside a lean man with the intelligent eyes of a businessman and a mouth cut into a permanent frown. A cordovan briefcase sat on the ground by the door. Pike wondered which owned the briefcase and which was the girl's father. He positioned himself away from the windows. Bud nodded toward the man with the lank hair. "Joe, this is Conner Barkley. Mr. Barkley, Joe Pike." Barkley squeezed out an uncomfortable smile.
( Robert Crais )
[ The Watchman ]
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