INT. - SILVER CITY MORGUE - DAY
Gerri's stomach tightened at the mention of the O'Reilly's. They were a smaller clan, but notorious for their violence and wicked tempers. "Alroy O'Reilly. Ten years ago." She'd been in Boston then, heard of the death, the manhunt for his killer, though she doubted very much if the cops looked as hard as they told the media they did.
Jordan's nodding was getting on her nerves, his over-eager attempt to appease her, the worst sort of weakness in her eyes. She hated her mind said maybe he was a good match for Kinsey, and hated even more the trouble she was having reading Jordan Michaels like she could with others.