Lynch crept through the dark living room with his gun pointed upward.

Footsteps. Coming his way.

A silhouetted form stepped through the doorway.

Not Kendra.

A man, probably five-ten or five-eleven. He was holding something in his hands.

Lynch took aim. “Freeze!”

“Oh, man. Oh, man. Oh, man.”

Lynch cocked his head. His intruder didn’t sound like a trained killer … More like a scared teenager caught raiding his father’s liquor cabinet.

“Whatever is in your hands, drop it.”

Without hesitation, the man let go. Lynch saw one of his favorite dinner plates shatter on the floor.

“What in the hell was that?”

“Cheese sandwich.”

“What?”

“Auricchio provolone on pumpernickel.”

“My Auricchio provolone on pumpernickel?”

“That depends,” he said warily. “Are you Adam Lynch?”

“You first. Who are you?”

“Sam Zackoff. I’m helping Kendra Michaels. She thought I might be in danger, so she put me up here.”

“Suppose we go upstairs and wake her and verify that.”

“Upstairs? No one’s in the house but Beth Avery. Would she do?”

“No, she would not.” Lynch’s hand tightened on the gun. “You’re telling me that Kendra’s not here.”

“No, we tried to convince her to come, but she wanted to stay in her own place. She’s so damn stubborn. Could you put that gun down now?”

“Not quite yet. You haven’t proved shit. Do you have a phone on you?”

“In my pocket.”

“Okay, very slowly, take it out and call Kendra. Put the call on speaker.”

“What if she doesn’t answer?”

Lynch turned on the lamp on the table next to him. His gun still pointed at Sam. “Hope that she does.”

Sam slowly reached down and pulled out his phone with his thumb and forefinger. He punched Kendra’s number, then put the phone on speaker.

Kendra answered on the second ring. “Sam, I’d just gotten to sleep. If it’s important, start talking. Otherwise, it had better wait until morning to—”

“I kind of think it’s important. Adam Lynch is here, and he wants to talk to you. Oh, and as a kind of funny aside, he has a big gun aimed at my chest.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Hello, Kendra,” Lynch spoke from across the room.

“Lynch … What are you doing there?”

“Last time I checked, it was still my home. Though I could be mistaken.” He put away the gun. “So I assume you’re vouching for this guy?”

“Of course. That’s Sam Zackoff. He’s a flat-out genius. Sam’s no threat, and you should get along with him. At least, I’d very much appreciate your not shooting him.”

“Thanks, Kendra.” Sam grinned. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine now that I’m no longer in danger of being mortally wounded by him.”

Lynch shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Sam’s grin faded.

“Sorry about this,” Kendra said. “I had no idea you were on your way home, or I would have—” She stopped, and said wearily, “No, I probably wouldn’t. Things have been— Do you want me to come up there?”

“It’s where you should have been to begin with,” Lynch said coolly. “But we’ll discuss that later. Go back to sleep. I’ll deal with it when I finish here.”

He nodded at Sam, who promptly cut the connection.

“I thought you knew,” Sam said. “Sorry.”

“Ordinarily, it wouldn’t be a big deal. I’m just a little wigged out right now.”

“I can imagine, coming home and finding a stranger in your kitchen.”

“No, actually I’m wigged-out that you were about a millisecond away from being dead on the floor with a bullet in your heart. You don’t know how close that came to happening.”

“Oh.” Sam was taken aback. Then he recovered. “Well, you don’t know how close I came to emptying my bowels when I saw you in here with that gun aimed at me. So I guess we’re both a little wigged-out.”

Lynch smiled. “So what kind of genius are you?”

“Computers. Software, hardware, networking … Kendra’s psychopathic buddy, Colby, has suddenly gotten very proficient with this stuff, so she called me to help out.”

“I’m no genius, but I’m pretty handy in that area myself.”

“I figured, with all the gear you have around here. You know how to use all the things I saw in your office?”

“I actually designed some of them. I recently wrote a custom application that lets me crack into anyone’s phone within thirty feet or so. I can access their address book, call logs, and personal information.” Lynch held up his phone. “As a matter of fact, I’ve used it to tap into your phone since we’ve been standing here.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it comes in handy. I can even—” Lynch froze as he glanced down at his phone screen. Puzzled, he turned it around to show Sam. In large letters, a warning message read: STAY OUT OF MY PHONE, ASSHOLE.”

Sam smiled. “I’ve written a custom app of my own. It keeps assholes from hacking into my phone.”

“And it’s obviously very effective.”

“I even have a setting that takes the snooper’s phone and wipes it clean. Turns it into a brick.”

Lynch went still. His face remained almost impassive, but there was the barest flicker of expression. “Indeed?”

“Don’t worry, the setting isn’t turned on at the moment.”

Lynch pocketed his phone. “Small favors, I guess.”

“You’re welcome.”

Lynch suddenly chuckled. “Kendra’s right. I think you and I will have a lot to talk about.”

“Whew.” Sam let out a relieved sign. “I wasn’t sure you weren’t going to pull out that gun again.”

“Suppose we go on to less explosive subjects. How can you get in and out of here without Kendra swiping her finger across her phone screen?”

“I cloned the app and had her swipe her finger on my phone. I modified the software so that her fingerprint registers every time I use it to come or go.”

“Hmm. I might have to rethink the security system here.”

“It’s actually pretty incredible, but of course, I’m pretty incredible.” Sam paced around the living room. “Kendra called it the Suburban Fortress, but I had no idea how right she was. I don’t think even Kendra knows.” His eyes were bright with eagerness. “If my calculations are right, this place could withstand an assault of an entire battery of forty-millimeter grenade launchers.”

“That’s correct. Of course, my neighbors wouldn’t be too thrilled about it.”

“Expecting an army?”

“Well, I’ve upset some people who do have small armies at their disposal.”

“Two questions. First of all, what people? And second, upset them how? This has to be good.”

“I work freelance, so it depends on my employer of the moment.”

“I was under the impression that you did government work.”

“That’s true. But I work for various agencies with different agendas. I’ve helped bring down crime families here in the U.S., warlords in Africa, and even a corrupt dictatorship.”

“Hey, cool. How exactly do you do that?”

Lynch was silent, gazing at him. Zackoff didn’t even realize that the questions he was asking could prove both offensive and dangerous. He was like a curious kid probing an intriguing new puzzle. But the answers weren’t anything confidential or top secret, and that eagerness was somehow appealing. It wouldn’t hurt to go a little further. “How do I do it? Persuasion, mostly. I’m pretty good at convincing people that my goals should be theirs.”

“Ah, the Puppetmaster at work.”

“Kendra must have told you that. I’m not fond of that name.”

“But it sounds like an accurate assessment of your skill set.”

“Still, it doesn’t make me like it,” he said flatly.

Sam held up his hands. “Sorry. See, I’m backing off. But sometimes we have to live with the nicknames we earn.”

“And what do people call you?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “My last name is Zackoff. One guess what people have called me my entire life.”

“Hmm. That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.”

“I never needed schoolyard bullies to make me strong.” Sam shrugged. “I entered arrest warrants for them in the local police databases. By the time it all got sorted out, most them spent at least a night in juvie.”