Sly could hear her pulse in her ears. Eight high-priced runners. She probably knew some of them. Like they said, Seattle wasn’t a big town, not in the shadows—and that made it worse. No pro was going to let sentiment get in the way of biz, and the people who were after her might know her habits, know where she dossed down. Frag, she thought, I could have talked to one of them tonight. Quickly she reviewed what she’d said on the phone to the members of her information net. Too much, probably.