Images of Noel in the bed that Hall had been shot to death in, a bed he had never seen, overlaid with her walking the same warehouse floor that he had walked, were hard to shake. 'What?'
'Halley. Where would he go if he made it out of the country?'
'I'd say he already has. I have no idea.'
Naylor adjusted his backside on the seat. 'We've got all the exits covered.'
'He's long gone. He's a pro.'
Naylor said under his breath, as though to himself, 'They're not always as smart as they think they are.'
Sun-spangled droplets spun from her arms as rhythmically she swam towards him. She was - had been - an excellent swimmer. 'I hope he isn't.' He went back to the diary, he couldn't help himself.