Snow in the dogwoods (Knight from G8 to F6)

She stopped in at The Dogwoods and ordered a beer. Her usual booth was taken so she sat on a stool at the end of the bar, near the phones. This occasional haunt was one of the few places that still had land-line booths installed against a wall in the back.

She laid the envelope facedown on the bar and let her fingers drum-roll the back of it. She had looked at the contents briefly before resealing it and taking it in with her to the meeting. She'd need to go over them in more detail of course, but would wait to get back to her office to do that. She went over what she knew.

Clay Gordon Knight, formerly Snow. He'd taken his mother's name and side, after his parent's very public divorce some years ago. Age 29. An artist. Now disinherited. Once, he could have capitalized on his father's connections but chose instead to try to make it on his own merits. With mixed results. Half the galleries in the city were afraid of risking his father's ire to hold shows for him, ironically, the other half found him too establishment.

One of the phones rang, interrupting her thoughts. She stepped off the stool and picked it up. The voice on the other end didn't identify itself, but then he never had. And she knew better than to ask where he was calling from or how he knew what she was working on, knew that any line of inquiry would only result in a dial tone and several weeks silence. She had come to learn that the information would be reliable and, with some shoeleather, verifiable. She had to be satisfied with that.

"He was in the waiting room. Did you see him?"

"How could I not. I'm sure it was no coincidence."

"Of course. Like you, they're using him. But don't underestimate him. Or Snow."

"You think his father's behind this?" She didn't usually ask himquestions. He didn't usually answer them.

His voice darkened with impatience. "Think, Bishop. Snow's either behind this or the target of it. Either way, don't let him fall on you. They're playing it soft. Like a human interest story. But keep your eye on the money and the bouncing check. Who closed thataccount? Get a copy of the surveillance tape and look at who else was in the lobby."

"I don't get Knight's role in all this."

"Don't think you know this kid, Bishop. A, he's no kid. B, he's notwhat everyone thinks; he may not even be what he thinks."