Bobbie Lavender stood in the hallway, trench coat buttoned to the neck, a small overnight bag in one hand. Her hair was lavender-tipped, her eyes a cool, assessing blue. She didn’t offer a fake smile.
“Is it that obvious?”
Bobbie laughed—a real laugh, surprised out of her.
A high-end hotel suite, midnight. Rain streaks the window, muffling the city noise.