”Lawrence’s mouth opened and closed like a guppy’s until he shook his head, gathering his wits once again. “I don’t understand what you’re...talking about.”“Who are you accusing?” Chairman Phillips asked, but Eric wasn’t about to be distracted, his eyes never wavering.“Oh, I think you do. Seems you contacted the CIA, suggesting I was an active threat and a potential resource for them to study. They seemed intrigued at uncovering how I came upon my new ... talents.”“That’s preposterous. How dare. Leaving the restaurant, they drove to the theater where the concert was being held. Inside the lobby, above a counter they saw a sign, "The Wine Shoppe". It was the same one from the street fair."Hey, look" he laughed, "it's our place." It's nice of them to follow us." Yeah, a regular movable feast. So let me buy you a mulled wine, for old time's sake."Sipping the warm, sweet wine out of a paper coffee cup, Gail thought she'd really rather the Chianti they had with dinner. But on the other. More

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