“Jesus,” Mark whispered. “Never even touched the first guy. Just looked at him. Whatever those sunglasses are covering, it’s got to be disturbing. Scars maybe. Whatever it was, it must have told him the truth.” “What truth?” “Everything was smoothly executed, right down to the way she caught Denise and transferred her to your daughter. There’s economy in every step. She’s a veteran.” “You mean a soldier?” “She’s fought. Who for, and why? Hard to say. But she knows how to hurt people in ways you don’t learn in a studio. Her backhand nailed a nerve in the big one’s jaw—broke it, too, I’d say.
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