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The front door to Cook’s office opened, and a hesitant head popped in "Are you open?" a man asked He looked about sixty turned sideways as he was

"Sure," I said, inviting hihtened and entered, followed by a woe He wore a dark blue blazer and reray hair perfectly cohtly-out-of-date khaki pantsuit that rief, thick and palpable, followed in their wake They were hurting

"Are either of you Charley Davidson?" the ripped my hand like I was humanity’s last hope If that were the case, humanity was in a lot of trouble The wo entle toward me, "we’re Mimi’s parents"

"Oh," I said, surprised "Please, coestured for Cookie to join us, then led therabbed a notepad to take notes

"You must be Cookie," the man said He took her hand

"Yes, sir, I am, Mr Marshal" She took the wo"

"Please, call me Wanda This is Harold Mimi has told us all about you"

Cookie’s sestured for theet the lon later

I pulled up a chair for her, then settled behind uess you knohere she is?" I asked, taking a wild-assed shot

Harold’s eyesI could feel the helplessness roll off him, but he had a sense of hope as well, one that Mi suspicion he , Ms Davidson I’ve heard good things about you"

That was different People rarely had good things to say about me, unless "certifiable nutcase" had finally shed its bad rep "Mr Marshal--"

"Harold," he insisted

"Harold, I read people pretty well--it’s part of what I do--and you seeht You see no one else does"

The couple glanced at each other I could see the doubt in their eyes They ondering if they could trust me