Just as Quinn completed the arrangements, Rayne sang out, “Got it.” Had she deliberately waited for him to finish his phone calls? She returned to the living room. “Sorry. I don’t cook much.”
She gave me a large plastic bag, the gallon size. I hadn’t cooked much either when I’d been out in the field, but since I’d been promoted to deputy director and then director, I’d stocked up on cookbooks and watched a lot of cooking shows, and now I was a halfway decent cook. Well, I hadn’t poisoned either myself or Quinn yet.
Quinn picked up the map and letter between his thumb and forefinger. I pulled the seal apart, snapped the bag open, and held it for Quinn to slip them in.