Pike heard a car door slam and once more shifted to the window. Larkin Conner Barkley had gotten out of the limo to meet her father and Kline. She had a heart-shaped face with a narrow nose that bent to the left. Copper-colored hair swirled around her head like coiling snakes. She was wearing tight shorts that started low and finished high, a green T-shirt, and had a small dog slung in a pink designer bag under her arm. It was one of those micro-dogs with swollen eyes that shivered when it was nervous. Pike knew it would bark at the wrong time and get her killed. He turned away from the window.