INT. - MARGOT'S CAR - NIGHT

Margot's wrinkled fingers tapped an irritated beat on the arm rest of the limo as she waited, entire body tensed, in anticipation of her visitor. Rain pattered a steady beat to match her tension on the roof of the car, washing the windows with streaks that threw reflections of light over her face.

There was too much at stake to risk pushing Kinsey further than she had just yet. The phone call was a mistake, and so was dinner. Margot heard ...