“They’re not innocent,” Joey insisted. “If they were, they wouldn’t be running. But for Oliver to leave his happy little comfort zone… there’s clearly something else we’re not seeing. People don’t change their spots without a damn good reason.”

“If it makes you feel better, Fudge told me we should have most of the research tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” Joey said as she turned onto Bedford Avenue. Unlike the last time she was here, the light gray sky was now pitch black, making it look less like a neighborhood and more like a dark alley. Still, even in the darkness, one thing stood out: the telephone company truck parked in front of Maggie Caruso’s building. Pulling in close, Joey glided by the van and studied her rearview. Two agents were in the front bucket seats.

“Everything okay?” Noreen asked through the cell phone.

“I’ll tell you in a second.” Heading halfway up the block, Joey ducked the car into a private driveway diagonally across from the building and cut the engine. Close enough to see, but still far enough not to be noticed. Squinting toward the van, she knew it didn’t make sense. Black bag jobs were supposed to be in and out. If they were still here, something was up. Maybe they found something, Joey thought. Or maybe they were waiting for-

Before she could finish the thought, tires screeched and a car turned onto the block.

“What’s going on?” Noreen asked.

“Shhhh,” Joey whispered even though Noreen’s voice only came through the earpiece. The car was moving fast – but it wasn’t someone passing through. Coasting past the van, the car bucked to a halt right in front of a fire hydrant. Joey shook her head. She should’ve known.

The doors swung wide, and Gallo and DeSanctis stepped into the night air. Without a word, DeSanctis opened the back door and extended a hand to Maggie Caruso. As she stepped out, her shoulders were slumped, her chin quivered, and her coat hung open clumsily. DeSanctis led her toward the building, but even in silhouette, it was easy to see she was a mess. She wasn’t getting upstairs without help. They must’ve torn her apart, Joey thought.

“I’ll be up in a second,” Gallo called out as he crossed around to the trunk. But the instant Maggie and DeSanctis disappeared, he headed down the block, straight for the van.

The driver rolled down his window, and Gallo reached in to shake his hand. At first, it looked like nothing more than a thank-you between friends – quick nodding; head back laughing – then just like that, Gallo stopped. His posture tensed and the driver handed him something. “Since when?” Gallo asked in a quiet roar. The driver stuck his hand out the window and pointed up the block. Straight at Joey.

“Aw, crap,” she whispered.

Gallo whirled around and their eyes locked. Joey’s throat locked up. Gallo’s dark glare sliced through her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Gallo thundered, storming straight at her car.

“Joey, are you okay?” Noreen asked.

There was no time to answer. Joey thought about starting her car, but it was too late. He was already there. Thick knuckles rapped against her window. “Open up,” Gallo demanded.

Knowing the drill, Joey rolled down her window. “I’m not breaking the law,” she insisted. “I have full credentials…”

“Screw credentials – what the hell were you doing inside that apartment?”

Staring straight at Gallo, Joey ran her tongue against the back of her teeth. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play stupid!” Gallo warned. “You know you have no jurisdiction!”

“I’m just doing my job,” Joey shot back. She pulled a leather ID case from her pocket and flashed her investigator’s license. “And last I checked, there’s no law against-”

In a blur, Gallo whipped his hand forward, slapped the ID from her fingertips, and sent it flying against the opposite window. “Listen to me!” he exploded in Joey’s face. “I don’t care about your learner’s permit – if you interfere with this investigation again, I’ll personally drag your ass back across the Brooklyn Bridge!”

Stunned by the outburst, Joey stayed silent. Law enforcement was always territorial about jurisdiction… but in the Secret Service… they didn’t lose their temper like that. Not without a reason.

“Anything else?” Joey asked.

Gallo tightened his gaze, shoved a closed fist into the car, and dumped a Ziploc bag of shattered electronics into Joey’s lap. All her bugs and transmitters, wrecked beyond repair. “Take it from me, Ms. Lemont – this isn’t a game you want to play.”

My eye twitches when I’m nervous. Just slightly – a light flutter that’s strong enough to tell me my body’s in complete revolt. Most of the time, I can turn it off by humming the theme song to Market Wrap or saying the alphabet backwards – but as I stand at the end of the line in Newark International Airport, I’m too focused on everything in my way: the fidgety brown-haired woman in front of me, the fifteen people ahead of her, and most important, the metal detectors at the front of the line and the half dozen security officials I’m thirty seconds away from facing.

If the Service put the word out, this’ll be the shortest trip we’ve ever taken, but as the line shuffles forward, nothing seems out of pla-

Damn.

I didn’t even notice him at first. Back beyond the conveyor belt. The broad-shouldered guy in the airport security uniform. He’s got a metal detector in his hand, but the way he’s gripping it like a bat, it’s like he’s never held one before in his life. His posture alone… only the Service grows them that big.

As he looks my way, I lower my head, refusing eye contact. Ten people in front of me, Charlie’s craning his neck in every direction, anxious for interaction.

“Long day, huh?” he asks the woman running the X-ray machine.

“Never ends,” the woman says with an appreciative grin.

On a normal day, I’d say it was typical Charlie small talk. But today… He may be yapping with the woman, but I see where he’s looking. Straight at the broad-shouldered man. And the way Charlie’s bouncing on the heels of his feet – it’s the same as the twitch in my eye. We both know what happens if we’re caught.

“No bags?” the woman asks as Charlie gets closer to the machine.

“Checked it,” he brags, holding up his ticket and pointing to the single claim check.

In Hoboken, a quick stop at the army-navy store got us a blue gym bag filled with underwear, shirts, and a few toiletries. It also got us a miniature lead-lined box that – when stuffed in the bottom of the gym bag – became the perfect hiding spot for Gallo’s gun.

No doubt, it’s a bad idea – the last thing we need is to be caught with the murder weapon – but as Charlie pointed out, these guys are leaping for our throats. Unless we want to wind up like Shep, we need the protection.

“Keep it moving,” a black guard calls out, motioning Charlie through the detector.

I hold my breath and once again lower my head. Nothing to worry about… nothing to worry about… Two seconds later, a high-pitched beep rips through the air. Oh, no. I look up just in time to see Charlie forcing a laugh. “Must be that erector set I ate this morning…”

Please, God, don’t let him blow it…

“Man, I used to hate those erector sets,” the guard laughs, waving a handheld detector up Charlie’s chest and down his shoulders. “Couldn’t build jack with ’em.” In the background, the guard with the square shoulders slowly turns our way.

“That’s why you gotta go with Lego,” Charlie adds, unable to stop himself. Spreading his arms, he waves hi to the guard with square shoulders. The guard nods awkwardly and looks away. He wants two brown-haired brothers – not a flaky blond kid traveling alone.

Finding nothing, the black guard lowers his detector. “Have a safe trip,” he tells Charlie.