“Davidson Chillingsworth here.”
“Dave?” Wren let out a little high-pitched bark of laughter that embarrassed him. “Dave, man, I have something to talk to you about.”
“Go ahead. But I have to tell you, I don’t have much time.”
Chillingsworth’s voice was so cold, so aligned with his name, that Wren wondered if he somehow knew already what he was about to tell him.
“Okay. I’ll make things brief. What happened to Evan last night scared me, really bad.” Having just given this speech to Rufus made it easier for Wren to give the same to Dave. The words flowed out, as though he himself believed it was the horror of a slain colleague that scared him off being part of the escort service. Of course that was part of it—how could it not be?—but Wren knew in his heart the real reason stood right next to him, close enough to touch, though Wren dared not.