"Being cute, or so I'm told." I smiled at him.
"Are you flirting with me?"
"Nope."
"Then what's with the smart remark?"
"Why am I getting solo treatment in your office, Raborn?"
"Because you know more than you're telling about these killers."
Only years of training kept my face blank; only the slightest movement of one eye, almost an involuntary twitch, gave it away. It was the closest thing I had to a tell, as they say in poker. I covered it by smiling at him. I made it a good smile. I'd found that most men got distracted by it. I was buying time while I thought about what to say.
I shook my head, still smiling, as if he amused the hell out of me. What I was thinking was, Does he actually know anything, or is he just fishing?
"Do I amuse you, Blake?"
"A little," I said.
He opened the folder in front of him and started tossing out photos of body parts as if he were dealing cards. I wasn't smiling by the time he finished covering the desk in gruesome pictures.
I gave him angry eyes then. "You should see it in person, Raborn. It's much worse."
"I've seen the latest crime scene," he said.
"Good for you, now what do you want?"
"I want the truth."