Brian stared out the windshield. He thought of feeding her a line about all the strange crap he'd supposedly seen via his casual gig with the police force, delivered in a jaded voice like some freaking veteran nearing his pension, but decided that was as equally farfetched as the truth.

"Because I just read a crime scene with my hands. Not intuition. Not forensics. I put my hand on a bullet hole and I saw it happen. That's what I can do."

He picked up his hot chocolate and drank some.