Since Paul wasnt a big conversationalisthe was the anti-Mac, in other words, and today had been the longest shed ever heard him speak in consecutive sentencesJena watched the scenery for a while. Then she decided to study the inside of Pauls truck to see what she could learn about him.Technically, it was exactly like hers and Gentrys. It had a black exterior with a blue light bar across the top and the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries Enforcement Division logo on the doors.It was tech heavy on the front dash, just like theirs, with LDWF, Terrebonne Parish Sheriffs Office, and Louisiana State Police Troop C radios, a laptop, a GPS unit, and a weather unit.In her truck and in Gentrys, the cords and wires were a colorful tangle of plastic and metal, usually with extra plugs dangling around like vines. Pauls cords were all black, and he had them woven in pairs and tucked underneath the dash, where they neatly disappeared.She leaned over to see how hed achieved such a thing, and noticed identical zip ties holding them in place.Sinclair, I hate to ask, but what are you doing?He sounded more bemused than annoyed, so she said, Im psychoanalyzing you based on the interior of your truck.He almost ran off the road. Why?Your scintillating conversation was putting me to sleep.His dark brows knit together but he seemed to have no answer to that.She turned around in her seat, as much as the seat belt allowed, and continued her study. Paul had a 12-gauge shotgun and a .223 carbine mounted right behind the drivers seat, same as in her own truck. The mounts had hidden release buttons so the agents could get the guns out one-handed and quickly.But where her truck had a catch-all supply of stuff, from paper towels to zip ties to evidence bags to fast-food wrappers thrown in the back, Pauls backseat was empty but for a zippered storage container normal people used for shoes. Each space held different things, all neatly arranged. Jena spotted evidence bags in one. Zip ties in another. Notebooks. Citation books. Paperwork. A spare uniform hung over one window, with a dry-cleaners tag dangling from the shirts top button.Good Lord. She turned back around.What did you learn? Paul finally asked.Youre an obsessive-compulsive neat freak, she said. Accent on freak.