Floating to the window I looked out at the wisps of clouds, the deep turquoise of the water, and the white sand below. Leaning to look out, I could se... the dark speck of our sheet, my body still stretched out on it. Abandoning the view of my reclined body, I let my sight rove over the round little room, little cubbies hugged the wall, a few open drawers displaying contents of an active mind. Paints, pencils in a rainbow of colors, a sheath of paper, books stacked on a corner, a rocking chair. The two of them had met at a couple of profiling sessions in Quantico. Stayed in touch.Artie is in his 60s, retired from the Wisconsin State Police. He pulled the pin when he got his 25 in. He’s round. And hard like a bowling ball. White crewcut, eyes as blue as mine. Not as twinkly though. I guess pulling bodies out of car crashes, if he did that, dims some of the light.It was a Sunday afternoon and we met Artie at a diner. He said, “The pie’s decent.” Vanessa smiled at me. She knows all my. More

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