More likely, my jaw dropped open on the left side, giving me a dumb, lop-sided grin that I can’t stand but always end up with when my guard is down....She stifled a laugh. This was bad.“You know,” I said, gesturing to the painting in front of me, “This represents a fear of the unknown.” The painting was a dark maroon rectangle, with a single yellow dot in the top left corner.“Does it?” she replied, her eyebrow arched. She moved towards me like a cat that had cornered its mouse.“Well, of course,. ”“It’s got to be the NSA.”“I wouldn’t speculate about that if I were you. I don’t know the customer, and I’d rather not know the customer, if you get my drift.”“Right. It’s got to be the NSA.”One of the men muttered, “I thought they were forced to stop the civilian surveillance program.”Peter ignored the man in a very obvious manner. Heads nodded. Mystery solved.“I’ll be gone for the next three weeks. You have a contact email address. Shoot me an email and I’ll call you back.”“Where are you. More

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