Well, thank God this is about to be over,I thought as I drove—well, blew—past the sign that marked the Westchester, Connecticut, city limits. Traffic sucked, not surprisingly; rush hour was still in full swing, and I had to moderate my impatience and ride the brake while I watched for my exit.Calm down. Things will be back to normal in just a few more minutes. Okay, so I was a little too optimistic. Also unrealistic, since me and normal have never really been on speaking terms. But, in my defense, I needed all the optimism I could muster right then. I’d been running on adrenaline and bad coffee for more than thirty hours straight. I’d been awake for so long that my eyes felt like they’d been rolled in beach sand and Tabasco sauce. I needed rest. Clean clothes. A shower. Not necessarily in that order. First, I had to find the guy who was going to save my life. I found the exit, navigated streets and annoying stoplights until I found the residential neighborhood I was looking for.
