The scent and sweat and stale-roasted almond stench of a trade show at 3:00 p.m. can be deadly. Greene was trying to get out of the massive hall without being spotted by an enemy … or an ex-girlfriend. Someone came up behind him from a darkened booth. Greene felt something cold and hard press into the small of his back. A gun muzzle?
Read MoreTrade Shows Are Forever: A Be Bold, Be Different, Be Memorable Thriller
