"Sure. What kind of stuff?" William said and smiled to himself. His honorable former partner was experiencing post-retirement pangs. He probably wanted to browse through his old journals, notes, take a trip down memory lane, as it were.
"On my shelf, right behind my desk, there's a binder called
'Advanced Network Agent Design.'"
William snapped on the desk lamp and wrote himself a note.
"I'll have Barbara send it to you. Anything else?"
"No. I mean, no, I don't want you to send it to me. I want you to send it to this address," Byron said.
William heard some papers shuffling.
"Here it is: 42 Inlet Drive, Camden, Maine, 04288."
"You got it, Byron. I'll have Barbara fetch it tomorrow and express it to you so you get it by Wednesday. Oh, wait a second, who's the addressee?"
"Peter Jones."
William's eyes shot to Martha's photo. He blinked rapidly and his lips parted. But no words would come out. He shut his mouth, took a deep swallow. Heard himself repeat the addressee's name, then for a few beats he heard his own blood pounding in his ears.