“Yes.” North opened the door of the SUV and got out. “A guy like Garraway should be working at a prestigious institution or a hospital located in a major city.”

“Maybe he went to Riverview because he felt a true calling.”

“I think it’s a hell of a lot more likely he took the job because someone convinced him that he stood to make a lot of money.”

“Loring?”

“Maybe.”

Sierra got out and joined him. Together they went up the steps. North tried the bell first. When there was no response he rapped sharply on the front door.

No one answered. Sierra watched him reach into a pocket of his cargo pants and pull out the lockpick.

“You know, if you keep this up we’re probably going to get arrested,” she said.

“No, we won’t,” he said. “I’ve got some solid government ID that will cover us if the local cops try to pull us in.”

“Government ID? Is it real?”

“I know this will come as a shock, but yes. It’s issued by the Agency for the Investigation of Atypical Phenomena.”

“Never heard of it.”

“The agency likes to keep a low profile.”

“No kidding.”

He was about to insert the pick into the lock but he paused long enough to try the doorknob.

It turned easily.

“Huh,” he said. He slipped his gun out of the shoulder holster. “Stand on the other side of the door.”

Sierra obediently moved out of what might become the line of fire. North flattened himself against the wall, opened the door and shoved it inward.

“Government agents,” he said in a loud, authoritative tone. “Come out with your hands up.”

Silence reverberated from deep inside the house. So did a sense of wrongness. You don’t have to be psychic to sense death, especially the violent kind. Humans have acute instincts for it.

“This is going to be bad,” North said quietly. “You’d better wait out here.”

He reached around the edge of the doorframe and flipped a light switch. Sierra pushed herself away from the wall of the house and looked through the doorway.

The hall light illuminated two suitcases.

Garraway’s body was sprawled on the floor. He had been shot twice, once in the chest and once in the head.

North went through the ritual of checking for a pulse, but he didn’t expect to find one and he was proven right. After a moment he got to his feet and contemplated the suitcases.

“Garraway was trying to run,” he said. “He shouldn’t have stopped to pack.”

North crouched and opened one of the suitcases. Sierra watched him flip through some clothing. At the bottom of the case there was an envelope. He opened it. A flash drive and a sheaf of computer printouts fell out.

North flipped through the printouts. “Spreadsheets. Financial stuff. Looks like Garraway was the money guy.”

Sierra took off one glove and gingerly touched the doorknob. A shock of fury zapped across her senses. She jerked her fingers off the metal and shook her hand in a futile attempt to ease the burn.