"You have experience working in a disaster area, correct?"
David Addison Waverly leaned back on my sofa. His starched slacks and impeccably tailored suit sat in stark contrast to his associate's torn jeans and bargain basement blazer. The frumpy man hid behind a massive pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses and persistently scratched at his face. He appeared to be suffering from some sort of withdrawal -- mystical or pharmaceutical. Or both.