"Archer, this is getting out of control. Fix it." He sounded deadly serious. It was a side of him that I'd only ever glimpsed before. Archer scoffed. "Fix what? I gave her the photos. What more do you want me to do?" Surprisingly, it was Steele who answered. "Tell her the truth," he said, so quietly I almost didn't hear him. "The whole truth." The sound of a fist hitting leather—probably the punching bag—echoed down the hall. "No." That was it. Archer always had the final word.
