4 That joy lasted until he’d showered, eaten his own omelet, and returned to his office. His desk chair was occupied. The occupant’s feet were up on the burnished walnut of Mike’s desk. Again. “Hey, Arrow.” Massar didn’t react one way or another to being nicknamed for a dead dog. “Hey yourself, Mike.” “What good news do you have for me today?” The sun outside the big windows was blinding and the haze blocked the view of the mountains. Agent Massar shook his head. “Straight to business? No how are the wife and kids? Where’s that notorious gift of the gab you wield so easily?” “I sure don’t waste it on an FBI agent slumming in my good chair.” “But I bet you spread it thick on that hot number who just rolled out the front door. You gotta get a life, my man.” “Sure, look at where it g