"Jack, I was about to call you," James said, his voice gravelly, casual, as though he were leaning back in some dim office with a cigarette hanging from his lips.
Jack let out a slow breath, steadying himself. "Do you get any information about Jennette Miller?"
There was the faint sound of a lighter flicking. A drag of smoke. Then a pause, as if James were pulling up something on his screen. "Alright. Give me a second… let me read it for you from what I found." Keys clattered faintly against a keyboard.
Jack sat forward, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the far wall as though it would give him answers faster than James could. His jaw flexed once, twice, the muscle ticking in quiet irritation. He hated waiting, hated relying on anyone else to piece together what his gut already told him that this woman wasn't going to disappear quietly.
