I recognized hervoice in the night, talking with a man who sounded distinctlylike Mr. Logan. Vickie was gone - God only knew where. That leftMr. Logan...I hoped I looked angry. The angelic face I now had was scarcelyintimidating, but it was the only face I had. I used it to frownthe second I got off the elevator. An elderly man, looking likean overweight Cesar Romero stood in a doorman's uniform in thelobby. He smiled at me as I approached."Good morning, Miss Dixon. Did you sleep well?" Where is. I would guess he was in his early thirties and was a really muscular man, really intimidating in that spiked leather jacket, and he had something like a tribal tattoo escaping from the collar of the shirt, up the neck. What are you thinking about? He asked as he saw me completely relaxed at the passengers seat. Im.. Nothing. I said, feeling my voice sounding weird, like I was doped. Geez. Still thinking straight. What a tough girl. Ok, whats your name? He asked. Samantha, but my friends call me. More

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