I pushed him against the wall.  I noticed that the paint, a dirty green the color of toothpaste residue, was peeling away, revealing the course surface of concrete beneath it.

 

 

"What does Synchro have to do with this?" I asked, my nose almost touching his. "Are our cases related?"

 

 

I could see the conflict of interest in his eyes.  I hoped that he could see the desire to break something in mine.  He blinked.  I didn't.

 

 

"Talk to Dr. Partain," he answered, voice wavering.  "Please, that's all I can tell you."

 

 

9.2736184954957037525164160739902

 

 

 

 

 

On one of the lower levels of the parking deck...